


Asylums Make to be Lovely Summer Homes as it Turns Out

by HawkeTheKasbah



Category: Asylum (Book Series), Madeleine Roux
Genre: Asylums, College, F/M, Fanfiction, Horror, I mean college, Kind of violent and trippy dreams, M/M, Murder, Mystery, Not too bad but I'm putting up warnings when they happen, Secrets, Serial Killers, Strap yourselves in, impending doom, it's gonna be a long ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:19:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkeTheKasbah/pseuds/HawkeTheKasbah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan Crawford is looking forward to (and dreading) the upcoming College Prep program in New Hampshire. It'll look great on his resume, and it will be a great chance to figure out what he wants to do in college. Things take a turn for the worse, however, when he starts getting strange feelings about the now renovated for students mental asylum he and his fellow classmates would be staying in. He and his newfound friends will need all of their strength, wit, and cunning in order to fight the menace within, that only seems intent on leaving them dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Asylums Make to be Lovely Summer Homes as it Turns Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfiction based off of the Asylum series by Madeleine Roux, which is pretty rockin', by the way, so go and check that out. I got my copy for super cheap. Do it.  
> Anyways, I hope that you like this story and with luck I can do the original plot some kind of justice and give my lovely Jordan the love that he so deserves. And maybe the anger counseling but that's for another time.

(Name) was suspiciously silent as his mother pulled up to the curb where she was to drop him off for his summer College Prep program. She had chalked this up to be regarding the extended amount of time that he was to be away from home, as the program was to simulate a college experience, and would last five weeks in order for students to get an idea of the college life. She let out a sigh and turned to face her son, murmuring what may have been words of gentle chiding. Or, they could have been her trying to tell her son that he wouldn't be able to make it in the real world without becoming independent of his family, for all he knew. He paid no mind to her soft tone, instead opting to stare out the window at the imposing building looming over the small car.

There Brookline stood, glaring menacingly down at them as though they were trespassers. The thick blanket of fog that lay over the grounds of the dormitory did not go unnoticed by (Name), who inwardly shuddered at the eerie effect that it had upon the building. It looked like something straight out of a Poe story; all it was missing were some tragically unstable inhabitants destined to a ghastly fate.

(Name) sighed. Of course this would have to be the year that the college decided to renovate the other student dorms, forcing the NHCP to move their participants into the former sanitarium. Despite this place being called a historical site, it gave (Name) the creeps. _Who would want to remember the way people were treated in these places before they were actually recognized as human beings?_

Unfortunately for (Name), as he had already been enrolled in this program and the deposit he put down to reserve his spot was nonrefundable, he had no choice but to play with the hand he was dealt, meaning that he was to stay in a decrepit old building where the people were held in cells and deprived of their basic human rights.

(Name) let out a sigh, startling his mother out of her rambling. "Thanks Mom, I know. I'll call you tonight," (Name) hugged his mother with one arm and pushed open the car door with the other, pausing only to grab his suitcase and backpack out of the trunk. He stood on the curb and waved as his mom drove away, then swept the area in order to try and find where all of the other students were congregated and by doing so, noticed someone emerging from a taxicab. The odd thing about the taxi was that it had stopped thirty feet away from the curb. Slightly curious (and slightly hopeful for a new friend), he walked over.

"Hey," (Name) said to the boy as he pulled his bags out of the taxi's trunk.

"Hi," the boy responded as he shouldered his backpack and closed the trunk, the taxi speeding away as soon as the the trunk clicked shut.

"(Name)," he introduced himself.

"I'm Dan," the boy said and, after slightly hesitating, offered his hand to shake. Amused by the gesture, (Name) cracked a smile and shook his hand.

"What are you in for?" (Name) asked Dan, trying to make conversation with him as they slowly made their way to the dormitories, weighed down by their luggage. "I'm studying history. Art history. Literature. Art. Looking around a bit, but those are my primary interests."

"I'm going to be studying history, mostly. A bit of psychology," Dan replied.

(Name) grinned, excited that he'd found another person interested in studying history. "Aww, that's cool man. I took a course back in tenth grade, I really liked it but it just didn't like me back. We're still friends, but man was that break up a doozy," (Name) laughed.

Dan smiled, unsure how to respond to (Name)'s rather eccentric rambling.

(Name)'s smile faded, and panic began to set in. _Oh my God, stop talking (Name), you're such a weirdo._

(Name) made a slightly pained expression, "I'm sorry. I'm going on and I must sound so odd... I'm sorry. I have no social skills."

Luckily, Dan seemed to be the kind of guy who was socially awkward, or at least knew how to deal with it, "No worries," he said lightly.

The duo made light conversation up to the third floor, and halfway down the hall, Dan stopped and checked his slip of paper.

"Well, this is me," Dan announced, "Room 3808."

"Alright. Looks like I'm down the hall. 3824," (Name) smiled, "See ya later, Dan."

"Later, (Name)." And with that, Dan entered his room and closed the door behind him.

(Name) headed to his room and opened the door. Seeing no one inside, he chose the bed furthest from the door, dropped his bags on the desk, and sat on the bed. He was already tired, and it was only what... He checked his watch. Whoa, It was already 3:30. The day was moving more quickly than he thought. He sighed and fell back onto the mattress.

_Five weeks,_ (Name) told himself as he let his eyes close. _Well, at least now it won't be boring._


	2. At Least No One's Rooming With Satan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting new people and heading off to the main plot is exhausting work. And makes people hungry. For ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which (Name) meets his roommate, enough sticks in the mud for it to be a bayou, and begins his quest for ice cream. A lot of action in this one, folks.

(Name) was awoken from his nap at the sound of a sickening _thud_. He jolted up into a sitting position, half expecting some horrifying hideous monster to attack him, maul him, and drag him under the bed, never to be seen again. He was relieved, and a little concerned, to see that the sound had been his new roommate tripping over one of his own bags and falling face-first onto the floor.

"Are you okay man?" (Name) got up from his bed and helped him up, careful to avoid what had been dropped on the floor as he fell. His roommate seemed grateful for the help, offering a brief smile before kneeling and hurriedly picking up the fallen items.

"Yeah, thanks," he shoved the fallen objects into his backpack and stood up, holding out a hand for (Name) to shake.

_This is the second time today that someone I've met wants me to shake their hand... Weird._

"I'm Joshua. Call me Josh," he said politely.

"(Name). Call me (Name)," (Name) replied, shaking Josh's hand.

Josh nodded and let go of (Name)'s hand, placing his backpack and suitcase on the previously unoccupied bed.

"So Josh, what's your poison?" (Name) asked, trying to make conversation.

"What?" Josh asked, clearly confused by the oddly phrased question.

"What do you plan on studying here?" (Name) amended.

"Oh. Uh, sciences mostly. A bit of math."

(Name) frowned slightly. Science was alright, but not really (Name)'s style.

Josh began unpacking his bags, neatly placing his clothing into the small set of drawers provided. He didn't seem to notice (Name)'s expression.

"What are you here for?" Josh asked as he hung up a shirt.

(Name) shrugged. "History, art. Art history. Literature. Stuff like that."

Josh made a sound of acknowledgement as he finished putting away his clothing. The two lapsed into an uncomfortably awkward silence, and (Name), for something to do, started putting his own clothes away. He rather sloppily shoved his clothing into the drawers, and upon looking at a darkening sky, checked his watch.

"Whoa, it's almost seven. We ought to go soon, we wouldn't want to be late for the ice cream social. Might miss out on ice cream and we can't have that happening."

Josh closed his bags and headed to the door, waiting for (Name) to grab his key and his jacket before shutting the door and locking it behind them. The two walked silently down the corridor, the only sounds being the footsteps muffled by the carpet, and the chatting of other students who had already made friends of their roommates.

Halfway down the hall, (Name) saw Dan, who looked to be fairly uncomfortable, and what he assumed to be his roommate jabbering away. He looked at Josh, who seemed to be glancing and another student just a few feet ahead of them. He didn't seem to want to leave (Name), he wanted to be polite.

"Go ahead, Josh, I'll see you later," (Name) said to his roommate. They would have time to exchange awkward pleasantries later. (Name) lifted a hand in acknowledgement as heard a thanks from Josh, leaving him favor of trying to catch up to Dan and his roommate.

"Hey, Dan," (Name) greeted Dan as he caught up with them.

"Oh, hey (Name)," Dan said, seemingly relieved to have the present conversation with his roommate interrupted, "How's it going? Have you settled in yet?"

"Yeah, just met my roommate," (Name) said, gesturing vaguely in the general direction he'd left Josh, "Honestly, he's a bit of a stick in the mud, but he seems pretty nice overall."

(Name) had to admit though, he was slightly disappointed. He had been hoping to meet knew types of people during the NHCP, not carbon copies of the people he had left back home.

"Speaking of roommates, I presume this is yours?" (Name) asked giving the stranger a once-over. Scrawny. Dressed like Norman Bates. Unsettlingly pale blue eyes. Hmm.

"Felix, Felix Sheridan," he said, promptly introducing himself.

(Name) nodded in acknowledgement of the introduction and gave him a smile that was returned with a rather cool indifference.

"The aforementioned (Name), nice to meet you."

(Name) did not become the savior that Dan had so obviously been hoping that he would be, as Felix looked right back at Dan as soon as the words had left (Name)'s mouth and resumed his one-sided conversation, rambling on about girls he was hoping to meet over the duration of the program. (Name), for the most part, was able to successfully tune Felix out and make it look as though he was genuinely interested in the conversation by adding in the occasional nod. In fact, it wasn't until Felix looked right at him and said his name that he'd realized that he had missed an entire question.

"Sorry?" (Name) said, hoping he didn't come off as rude, or a complete simpleton.

"I said," Felix said slowly and clearly, "What is your type? I don't want us to be fighting over the same kind of girls, best to know now."

(Name) snorted. "You won't have to worry about that," he said, not bothering to elaborate.

Although it took slightly longer than he would have expected, he couldn't help but smirk as an expression of comprehension made its way onto Dan and Felix's faces.

Felix took it rather well, he was glad to see, and simply nodded before continuing his rambling.

Dan, on the other hand, looked rather taken aback, like he was having a hard time processing the information.

(Name) frowned, "You okay, Dan?" he asked.

Dan seemed to snap out of his sort of trance and nodded. "Yeah dude."

"Is there a problem?" He sincerely hoped that there wasn't, but one could never be sure with some people.

Dan seemed to struggle with formulating his sentence. "Uh, why didn't you tell me?"

(Name) couldn't help but laugh. "So you're saying that I should have just walked right up to you and said 'hello, I'm (Name), and I'm gay as the Fourth of July?'"

Dan turned a rather violent shade of red. "No I mean... Wow, I sound like an ass..." he trailed off, not quite knowing what to say.

"It's cool, Dan, don't sweat it," (Name) said, glad that he hadn't gotten a worse reaction from what he hoped would be his first new friend, "It's not a big deal until you make it one, you know?"

(Name) grinned as he began to descend the stairs to head into the dining hall.

"Now, for ice cream," he said. "C'mon guys, let's go eat some ice cream like real men."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, it gets better. Promise. My fingers totally aren't crossed.


	3. Ice Cream Socials are Totally for Adults, Shut up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice Cream socials are great. And definitely are for mature responsible adults. I don't know what you've been reading that says that they aren't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take too much from the actual story regarding dialogue, Ashton Kutcher can only do his lovely Iowa accent, and (Name) enjoys his ice cream. But not Jordan. Jordan ticks him off a bit. But he needs friends so anyways.

"Well, I feel like a grown-up, how about you?" Dan said, taking another bite of his mint-chocolate chip ice cream.

(Name) grinned at Dan's joke, while Felix seemed to not understand it at all.

"I don't understand," Felix said, frowning slightly.

(Name) laughed. "You go on nonstop about girls and everything you know about them, but when it comes to simple jokes you have no clue?" He continued to laugh, but stopped short when Felix shot him a glare. He cleared his throat and looked at Dan, hoping that he would explain.

"I mean that the whole ice cream social thing feels like we're kids again."

"Hey now, don't diss ice cream socials. They're for adults too, damn it. I don't what you've been reading that says they aren't," (Name) interjected.

Felix's frown would not abate. "I didn't ever really connect ice cream with my childhood."

(Name) knew what Dan was thinking, he was thinking the same thing, but that didn't make it any less rude. He hid a smile and said nothing. He heard Felix saying something complicated and sciencey and walked him walk away towards someone who was presumably a professor.

He glanced over at Dan, only to see that he'd grown rather pale and looked as through he was about to be sick.

"Dan, are you alright?" (Name) asked, worried that his new friend might be ill. "Dan? _Dan_?"

Dan very suddenly keeled over and almost hit the floor, and would have too, if it hadn't been for the quick reflexes and combined efforts of (Name) and a girl who had been passing by.

"Whoa there! Careful, or you'll be wearing that ice cream."

Dan hurriedly checked his shirt to make sure that nothing had made its way onto it.

"Uh hi, and uh, thanks. I'm Dan. Dan Crawford," he said, now seemingly transfixed with the girl in front of him.

"(Name)," (Name) said while directing a slight wave in the girl's direction. She smiled and shook their hands in turn.

"Abby, Abby Valdez. It is really hot in here, they really should have fans. Let's go outside, I feel like I'm being baked into a pie."

Dan obviously was trying to figure out something to say, so (Name) spoke up for him, hoping he could help him out.

"So, uh, how do you like this place so far?"

Other than staying in the old loony bin and in a toaster oven, it's pretty cool," Abby said.

What are you here for?" Dan asked Abby. "I'm here for psychology and history, mostly."

"I'll give you one guess," Abby said, gesturing to her clothing, which was decorated with paint splatters and marker stains, forcibly reminding (Name) of his friend Rachel back home.

"Um, art?" Dan said, making Abby smile.

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" Abby then turned to look at (Name). "What are you here for?"

"History, art history, art. Stuff like that."

Abby nodded and started gabbing on. "I thought that this program would be a great chance to work on my college apps and art portfolio..."

The three of them headed out the front doors as Abby jabbered on excitedly about her art portfolio, and it wasn't until they were far past the exit that she turned and directed her attention to Dan.

"Are you feeling better, Dan?"

Huh? Oh yeah, uh, it must have just been the heat, I didn't have much to eat today either, so..."

(Name) stood there as they lapsed into a slightly awkward silence, which was finally broken by Dan asking Abby (definitely Abby, as (Name) was fairly certain that Dan had forgotten he existed by this point), "So are you into sports?"

(Name) had to restrain himself from smacking Dan upside the head. _Lame. Totally lame._

"No, not really. I was usually up in the stands with my piccolo. Didn't really like it, but Dad said it would make me look more well-rounded."

"Yeah, I've never been into them either," Dan said, "My dad was a little disappointed. He was a huge baseball fan as a kid."

"Well, it couldn't have been that bad. You've got the brain power to make into a program like this, so--" Abby suddenly cut herself off and began waving excitedly. at a guy walking towards them, pointedly ignoring and cutting through the Frisbee game being played in the courtyard.

Based off of Dan's expression, he wasn't too terribly thrilled to see another guy had already become so close to Abby. Especially one so good looking.

 _And damn_ , (Name) thought to himself, _was he good looking_.

Slim glasses, perfect five o'clock shadow (and not that rubbishy patchy scruff teenagers are so oddly proud of), and a rather impeccable fashion sense. Yes, impeccable. Hopefully, he wasn't a complete ass.

"What's up, nerds?"

Oh.

Jordan, be nice," Abby scolded him in spite of her grin. "Dan, (Name), this is Jordan. Jordan, (Name) and Dan. I promise that he's not as huge a jerk as he looks."

"Nope, just an asshole," Jordan said.

(Name) let out a nearly inaudible laugh disguised by a cough. _Hmm, that sass..._

The cough drew Jordan's attention back to the newcomers. "So, Dan, (Name), how are you settling into geek camp so far?" He asked, giving them each a once-over.

Abby groaned. "Sorry Dan, (Name). He's just trying to impress you guys by being a jerk. I met him on the bus ride here and he's a really nice guy once you get to know him."

Dan seemed to be glaring at Jordan as he pulled Abby into a one-armed embrace, evidently uncomfortable with the levels of affection being shown. (Name) couldn't help but smirk at Dan's behavior. _Really Dan? Could you_ be _any more obvious?_

Unfortunately for Dan, (Name) wasn't the only one to notice Dan's expression. Jordan let out a sigh and said, "Fine, fine. I'm Jordan, pleased to meet you and all that. Now _please_ stop glaring at me like I ate your dog. Abby's really not my type, alright?"

Abby hit him on the arm. "That wasn't much of an introduction," she complained, with a frown (and a flush making its way onto her face).

Jordan grinned, and suddenly they were laughing together like old friends. (Name), used to being left out of the loop, simply shrugged when Dan sent him a questioning glance as though asking where the conversation had gone to result in this.

Dan's and (Name)'s expressions must have made it exceedingly clear, because Jordan dramatically rolled his eyes and said in a voice that would have offended anyone over the age of five, "Jeez... I'm gay. That's why Abby isn't my type."

(Name) nodded, choosing not to say anything. He didn't trust himself to not say something rude in response to Jordan's snarky tone. Hot or not, he wasn't sure he would wind up liking this guy much. Dan, on the other hand, being the social butterfly that he was, tried to pass off his initial expression with an "Oh. Yeah. Right," like he'd known it all along. And although his expression was no longer one of jealousy, it had not improved. Rather, it had become one of quiet resignation as he listened to the pair converse with the ease of two old friends.

Dan must have been worried that he was being too antisocial, because he shocked everyone, including (Name) by blurting out, "So there's a creepy old office on the first floor of our dorm."

(Name) cocked his head in confusion. "Okay...?" He said at last.

"In Brookline, in the lobby," Dan said, as though this explained everything.

Abby looked interested and Dan looked eager; Jordan, however, did not seemed to be nearly so enthused, (Name) noted. Good. Neither was he.

"I think I walked by that earlier. It looked like it was quarantined, or something."

"My roommate Felix found it, and he said that it was unlocked. Thought that it would be something cool to check out after hours, you know?"

Jordan didn't look nearly as convinced that it would be a good idea. He shook his head and began to pick at the fringe of his scarf. "Sounds against the rules. I don't know about you, but I'm not looking to get myself thrown out on the first day."

 _Wow_ , (Name) though to himself. _Maybe he really_ was _trying to impress us with that "I don't give a crap" attitude earlier..._ Nonetheless, (Name) couldn't help but agree. The last thing he needed was to go home after not even a day.

"Plus you said creepy. I really don't dig on real life creepy, Dan. In the movies, it's fine, sure, but I really don't fancy stumbling onto some Satanic cult down there, or some mental angry ghost. Call me crazy, but I don't much fancy the idea of being hunted down by spirits of angry patients or something," (Name) added. He sort of wished that it would discourage Abby and Dan, and that they would go and do something else.

Abby, however, would have none of this. She seemed sold on the idea. "He said that it was unlocked, Jordan, that's hardly off-limits. It sounds interesting, and I'm always looking for inspiration."

"Felix said there were loads of old photographs," Dan said hurriedly, as though he didn't want to give Jordan or (Name) the opportunity to further sow their seeds of doubt.

Neither Jordan nor (Name) looked convinced. "It was just _open_?" Jordan said at last. (Name) sighed. He was losing him...

Dan nodded, looking rather pleased that Jordan was no longer outright saying no. "My roommate said that there was a lock but that it was broken."

Abby snorted lightly in amusement. "Talk about lax," she said.

"And weird," Jordan added.

"And suspicious," (Name) put in. "I dunno, Dan... Does Felix seem the kind of guy who might tell you this specifically to get you in trouble?" He didn't much like Felix; he was rather odd even by (Name)'s standards. And the fact that he gave off a sort of Norman Bates vibe did little to improve it.

But Abby had decided for the lot of them. "You're not sitting this out," she said to the pair of them, causing (Name) to ever so slightly roll his eyes.

"Come on," Dan said, reading (Name)'s and Jordan's expressions and gestured to Felix, who had just passed them by on his way back to the dorms. " _He_ went in. How bad can it be?"

(Name) huffed. "You know Dan, that's right up there with 'what can possibly go wrong?' and 'I'll be right back.'"

Jordan snorted. Perhaps a look at Dan's roommate had convinced him otherwise, because his smirk returned to his face. "What's that they're always saying about peer pressure?"

"If your friends all jumped off a bridge, would you do it too?" (Name) said, despite knowing that it was a rhetorical question. "I, for one, am not into jumping off of haunted bridges."

Abby grinned. They were so in! Jordan and (Name) just needed a little more convincing... "Well, Dan and I are going with or without you, aren't we?"

(Name) sighed. If Jordan was in, he was in. He wanted friends and if that meant going down to some dusty, creepy old office, then so be it. After all, what could possibly go wrong? "Fine," he said shortly.

"All right already!" Jordan laughed. "You win. Let's go jump off that bridge."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally have my story back! Generally I write this story on paper, and I left it in Florida when I went to college. My mom brought it for me, so yay! I'm using the book a lot more, but I don't plan to go super nuts and lean too heavily on the book for much longer. At least not regarding dialogue. I'm trying to get used to writing these characters, so...


	4. Even Mission Impossible Wasn't as Harrowing. Okay Maybe it Was, But Shhh.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An infiltration that would put Tom Cruise to shame, a hypnotizing picture with the pull of the One Ring, a desk older than my parents, and lockpicking Skyrim style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Name) doesn't much care for creepy offices in renovated insane asylums. But thanks to that good old friend called peer pressure (and a little curiosity), he goes with his new friends to check it out. Thanks, Dan, for wanting to impress people.

(Name) paced outside the door to Dan's room.Though he may not like what they were doing, he still absolutely despised being late. And quite frankly, Dan's tardiness was agitating him. Despite them having agreed to go down to meet the others together, (Name) couldn't help but wonder if Dan had left to meet up with Abby as soon as he could. (Name) almost immediately dismissed the idea; Dan didn't seem the type to bail on someone, even if he did seem to be a bit of a people pleaser.

At last Dan emerged from his room. (Name) gave him a look, as though he blamed him from possibly making them late (which he sort of did), but he said nothing of the sort as he jerked his head towards the stairs down the hall and began walking.

"Parents called," Dan said, feeling as though he owed a bit of an explanation. (Name) nodded, acknowledging that Dan had spoken, and said nothing sharp. Dan took this to be a good thing.

By the time that the pair of them had descended the staircase and arrived at the first floor, both Abby and Jordan were waiting for them, Abby by the staircase and Jordan leaning casually against a column.

"Hey," Abby greeted them. "We saw a hall monitor a few minutes ago, but nothing since, really."

Dan nodded. "Let's go," he said.

(Name) shook his head. "Nope."

"Last chance to do something sensible," Jordan offered. "Like drink in my room and watch _Thundercats_."

That sounded mighty tempting to (Name), who had no problem going sans creepy office tonight. But... "It's _Scooby-Doo_ or no dice, Jordan."

Jordan let out a short, clipped laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "You drive a hard bargain."

Abby snorted. It was obvious by her expression that she thought they were chickening out (which they most certainly were). "We can always do that afterwards."

"You can bet that I'll be holding you to that," Jordan muttered. "Because I'll definitely be needing a drink after this."

As they passed billboards and vending machines on their way to the room, the vending machines casting an eerie light upon the objects in the corridor, (Name) began to grown more and more fidgety, as though something had triggered his fight-or-flight response. He glanced about, wondering if it was only him. Only Dan seemed to be visibly nervous. (Name) tried to write off his uneasy feelings as they approached the door, the door with a sign with the words "KEEP OUT" painted in large red letters.

"Locked," (Name) said, "Can we watch television now?" The sooner they were gone, the better.

"I thought that your roommate said it was unlocked?" Jordan said to Dan, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly.

Dan looked beyond disappointed, as though he had let them down somehow. "I'm so sorry for dragging you down here. They must have figured out that there were students coming down here." He looked so dejected that (Name) had to resist the very sudden and strong urge to hug him.

Evidently Jordan also took pity on Dan, as he pulled out a paperclip. "Alright, jeez, stop looking so sad," Jordan muttered as he inserted the paperclip into the padlock's keyhole and began to softly jiggle it. Jordan started mumbling something else, the only audible thing being _Thundercats_ , to which (Name) ever-so-helpfully put in " _Scooby-Doo_ , Jordan."

Abby didn't find this particularly amusing. "Shh, you guys, keep it down!"

Jordan paused in his work briefly to shoot her a look. "You're breathing louder than we're talking."

Dan shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe just hurry a little?" He whispered. He definitely didn't seem the type who would sneak into an off-limits area after hours, so (Name) could understand his discomfort.

(Name) shook his head. "Going too fast is a bad idea Dan, especially in the dark like this. Could break the pick or screw up the lock." Sure, he didn't make a habit of picking locks, but he figured that the laws of lockpicking in Skyrim could be applied to this situation.

After a moment of silenced punctuated by the soft rattling of metal against metal, a soft click could be heard.

"Got it!" Jordan said triumphantly, getting to his feet. He pulled the padlock off of the door and pushed. Nothing.

"Stuck," he said sounding slightly irritated, "Help me out here."

They all pushed on the door with all their strength until it finally started to give way. Another push caused the door to fly open with loud creaks of protest issuing from its hinges. The force of pushing the door open was too much for (Name) and Abby, as they had not expected it to open so suddenly. The two stumbled into the room and straight into the thick cloud of dust that had risen to meet them.

(Name) choked on the sheer amount of dust in the air, which, after the dust had finally settled a bit, (Name) noticed that it smelt of decaying books, of mold and mildew.

"That is absolutely foul..." Abby muttered, waving dust away from her face and covering her mouth and nose to keep from breathing any more dust in.

"They probably don't clean in here anymore," Dan said as Jordan flicked his flashlight about, shining the beam into the corners of the room. (Name) fought the urge to roll his eyes. _Well, duh..._

"Smells like my grandpa's house," Jordan said. "Must have been a long time since people worked here. How long do you think?"

(Name) eyed a dusty typewriter on one of the nearby desks. "Decades. A fair few, I'd say. 1960s?"

"The last Stone Age maybe?" Abby mused.

(Name), Dan, and Abby switched on their phone lights, which although they did little to help light the room, did help them avoid bumping into things.

"Eerie," (Name) whispered. "It's like it's been frozen in time."

"It must have been closed down suddenly," Abby said.

Jordan shone the flashlight over the door, helping to show the letters on the door:

W D N RA F D

"Warden's office?" Dan said, leaning closer to the letters as though to further analyze the peeling letters.

"I'd say so," (Name) said.

"Think it's open?" Abby wondered.

(Name) shrugged.

Dan took hold of the handle and began to turn it. "Only one way to find out," he said as he began to slowly push open the door.

"Whoa," Abby said, followed by an exclamation from Dan.

It was definitely the warden's office. At the center of the room sat a large ancient oaken desk, coated in a thick snow-like layer of dust. Filing cabinets sat in the corners, assumedly containing files on the asylum and its patients and faculty.

"So who wants to go first?" (Name) said, breaking the awed silence.

Nobody answered, although Jordan did give Dan a shove. Visibly steeling himself, Dan started into the room looking about the room as he went, nearly tripping over a fallen umbrella stand.

Making his way to the desk, Dan passed and gestured to the group, waving them over to him.

"I think I found the pictures Felix mentioned," Dan said, picking up a photo from the in-tray on the desk. He squinted and suddenly let out a startled yelp, causing all three of the others to jump slightly in surprise.

"What is it?" Abby asked, peering over at Dan and cocking her head ever so slightly in confusion.

Dan shook his head quickly, as though trying to shake a thought from his mind. "Nothing, nothing," he said rather unconvincingly. And as though to get his mind (and everyone else's) minds off of his sudden outburst, he flipped to the next picture.

A group of physicians stood around a gurney on which a teenaged boy lay. A doctor held his head as another was in the middle of buckling him down, restraining him to the gurney as a nurse readied a syringe.

(Name) shuddered. The photo was beyond creepy. The photo was genuinely disturbing.

"Must be a treatment," Dan said.

"I most certainly hope so," (Name) muttered. As a treatment, it was horrible, but if it was to attempt to help someone and not just because they could...

Dan flipped to the next picture, and (Name) blanched. It depicted a woman on a table in full restraints. She wore a helmet with wires protruding from it and a wooden bit clenched in between her teeth as she wore an expression of pure agony.

Dan flipped to the next picture, a look of morbid fascination apparent on his face.

"Jesus," (Name), who couldn't take the photos any longer (it's one thing to read about the treatments used in the early days of insane asylums, but a whole different thing entirely to see it), turned away and began instead to look at the filing cabinets lining the room. A fair few were obviously locked, and some that weren't had been opened with several files on the floor or hanging out of the drawers.

Guys, check this out," came a voice across the room. (Name) turned to see Jordan staring at a picture of a girl on the wall. The picture was accompanied by others, lining the walls, all of patients. The one Jordan had been gesturing to was of a little girl, dressed up and posed as though she were posing for a portrait. It would have been nice, perhaps even pretty, if not for the blank look she gave the camera.

"Oh my God," (Name) said shakily. He didn't need to see that. Lobotomies were bad enough on their own, but to perform one on a child? Monstrous.

"She looks so sad," Abby whispered as she stared, transfixed by the girl.

 _Looks dead inside, more like_.

The next image showed a patient being restrained by orderlies, a muzzle adorning his face.

"What kind of sick person hangs stuff like this on his wall?" (Name) wondered. "This is just... so screwed up."

"Hard to remember that they were here to get help," Jordan said softly, his expression grim.

"He was ill," Dan said automatically.

"So? Does that look humane to you? Those doctors wouldn't know the Hippocratic oath if it kneed them in the balls."

"You have no idea what was going on," Dan shot back.

(Name) narrowed his eyes; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "They treated the people that they were sworn to help worse than animals, they tortured them, and you're _defending_ them, Dan?"

Dan looked for confused for a second, as he himself had just realized that he had been defending the doctors. A look of surprise and slight disgust appeared on his face as he crossed his arms.

"At least... it's a good thing that psychological science has come such a long way since then," he said, trying to fill the silence.

"Why would they leave these up?" Abby suddenly spoke up. "These are absolutely horrible!"

Jordan, ever the optimist, responded to the question. "At least they're honest. And it _was_ locked, after all, don't forget."

"I think someone should have at least taken them down," (Name) said. He agreed with Abby. They were absolutely horrible. "regardless of whether they're locked away or not. This is sick."

Abby continued to stare at the picture of the girl.

"She shouldn't have to stay here. She should be safe." She slowly lifted the picture off of the wall and hugged it to her chest, as though she were actually hugging the little girl and was attempting to comfort her.

(Name), to his credit, only looked slightly panicked.

"What are you doing, Abby?" Dan asked her as though he were walking through a minefield--one misstep and it was all over.

"I'm taking her back to my room," Abby replied in a matter-of-factly tone, hugging the picture to her chest even tighter.

"Abby, that's a really bad idea," (Name) said slowly and carefully. He didn't like this. He felt like they were intruding on something they shouldn't, now more than ever.

"It's supposed to be down here, Abby. Leave it alone," Dan said.

Before Abby could reply, Jordan spoke up. "Come on, it's not like you know her, Abby. Put it back, someone might notice it's missing."

This didn't convince Abby, that much was obvious. "Who?" Abby demanded.

"Someone," Jordan replied. "There's probably a catalog of everything down here."

Abby, who had demanded an answer from Jordan, completely ignored him. She stood there, hugging the picture to her chest.

"Abby, please leave it," (Name) said. "We don't want to disturb anything any more than we have to."

Dan was the clincher. "Abby, please. She belongs down here, with the others. Leave it."

Abby stared blankly for a minute, seemingly in a trance. She seemed to snap out of it and slowly placed it back on the wall, causing Dan, Jordan, and (Name) to simultaneously let out sighs of relief.

"Let's go," Abby, said, turning to the others. "I've had enough."

And with Abby's blessing, the four high tailed it out of there as fast as they could manage without running or tripping over the things still strewn across the floor.

Dan practically slammed the door behind them, (Name) only pausing to fumble with the doors padlock before following after the others.

One thing was certain: given how freaked out everyone was, there would be no _Scooby-Doo_ , not even _Thundercats_ tonight.

(Name) and Dan each walked back to their rooms in near silence, barely even exchanging a good night. Good, (Name) was dead tired. There was time to socialize in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to actually be writing again, like seriously. This is the only fic that I'm actually working on and I have no problem with that. Although, I am lamenting over the fact that there's not enough Game of Thrones x Male stories like wtf.


	5. Can Friendship be Exploited? You Bet Your Ass it Can.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby's coffee is a diabetic's nightmare. Orientations suck, that's what the first circle of Hell consists of. Hall monitors are off-limits, and even if Brookline's history is rich, it's best not to speak of it like it's the best thing since Disney World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't read my own handwriting, I'm super fricking hungry, my hands are freezing, and (Name) loves French Gothic architecture.

The first thing that (Name) noticed the next morning is that Dan looked absolutely horrid.

"Hey, Dan, you look how I feel. Are you alright?" (Name) asked as they headed down to breakfast together.

"I'm fine," Dan muttered, stifling a yawn, clearly not fine. (Name) raised an eyebrow, but to his credit, said nothing.

Unsurprisingly though, Abby noticed as well, and asked him as his head began to fall dangerously close to his cereal bowl.

"You look like crap, Dan, no offense."

Dan nodded, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth as an afterthought.

"Felix snores. And gets up before dawn to work out. I don't think that I'll be getting a lot of sleep this summer."

"You sure it wasn't because of last night?" Abby asked Dan rather bluntly, and he smiled despite himself.

"Well it was pretty intense," Dan admitted.

(Name) sighed. "Intense" was an understatement. It was fricking _haunting_.

Dan sighed and started to rub his temples, obviously suffering under a blooming headache.

(Name) pushed a small bottle of aspirin towards Dan, and Abby pushed her mug of coffee towards him. "You don't want to feel like crap on your first day," (Name) said.

Dan smiled and thanked them. He took an aspirin and took a sip of the coffee, almost choking as he did so.

"Whoa, Dan, are you okay?" (Name) asked worriedly.

"Yeah... jeez Abby, how do you drink this stuff?" Dan asked, gesturing to the coffee, which, upon closer inspection, looked akin to sugary sludge.

Abby shrugged and said simply, "I hate coffee. The sugar helps with the taste, but not a ton. Whenever I go to a gallery or art show all they have is wine or coffee, so I just have to deal."

Dan laughed and (Name) let out a snort of laughter. Making concessions to the collective? They could both relate.

Out of the blue, Dan asked, "So you took a bus here?"

Abby nodded. "A couple of buses, actually. Long rides, but I'm from New York, so I'm used to public transportation. Not terribly daunting."

"I took a plane from Pittsburgh and a taxi here," Dan said. "So, New York? Is that where Jordan came from too?"

Abby shook her head. "No, Virginia. We only shared the last bit of the ride."

"That's a really long way. Why not fly?" (Name) asked. Did he hate flying? (Name) sure did...

"His parents got him a plane ticket, but not to New Hampshire," Abby said, taking a sip from her mug of diabetes absently. At (Name) and Dan's confused expressions, she sighed lightly and decided to elaborate. "They think he's at one of those pray-the-gay away camps."

(Name) frown turned into a scowl. "I hate those things," he said, "They make me ill." He took a bite of his bagel and proceeded to glare at it, as though it had done him a wrong. Made sense why Jordan didn't want to get chucked out, though.

Dan frowned. "What if his parents find out if he was here?"

Abby shrugged. "Dunno... World War three?" Suddenly she turned to (Name). "How about you, (Name)? Don't think I'd forgotten about you."

"My mom drove me from Detroit," (Name) said. "She likes roadtrips and wanted me and my dad away from one another for a few days."

At the questioning looks he received, he added, "We don't get on well. Different views of how I should live my life. What I should do, who I should be with." He drained his glass of orange juice and stood up. "Jeez, where's Jordan? He's going to miss registration if he doesn't get a move on."

"He'd better hurry or he might have to spend his time with Felix in Advanced Bioethics."

Abby rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. "Oh, be nice."

“Speaking of classes, what if we all took a class together? You, me, (Name), and Jordan, I mean.”

Abby shrugged. “Why not? But I have to make sure I get a spot in Life Drawing. Any chance you guys would be interested in signing up?”

Dan made a face. “My drawing is worse than stick figures,” he said.

Abby wiggled her eyebrows. “There will be naked giiiiirls,” she said, as though it was the ultimate incentive. (Name) snorted.

“And naked guys,” Dan added.

“That’s true. Oooh, maybe Jordan will sign up with me!” Abby turned to (Name). “How about you, (Name). Naked guys and art, what could be better? How about it?”

“You make it sound so sophisticated, Abby. You just have a way with words, it seems,” (Name) said. “Sure, I’ll check it out.”

“Sweet,” Abby grinned. “This will be great.”

“Hey losers, wait up!”

They turned to see Jordan racing across the quad to meet them.

“Oversleep?” (Name) asked. “Your brilliant sunny personality was missed over breakfast.”

Jordan made a face at him and stuck his tongue out, “Yeah. Speaking of breakfast, how was the food? Terrible, probably.”

(Name) shrugged. “Not horrible; better than cafeteria food, at least.”

“Abby’s coffee was a diabetic’s nightmare, though,” Dan added.

“Dan’s just grumpy because his roommate woke him up early,” Abby said.

Jordan laughed. “You really lost the roommate lottery, man. Yi’s great, He played the cello for me this morning. I can’t wait for college. It sure beats living under the Taliban for sure.”

“You shouldn’t be in such a hurry, Jordan. You’ve only got one life, best not wish it away,” Abby said with a smug smile on her face.

“Not if you’re Buddhist,” Jordan replied (“Or a ghost,” (Name) added in). “Or a ghost, yeah. You’re right though, who wants to get old? Sure, I’ll be distinguished, handsome—” (Name) snorted. “—but true enough. Back pains, wrinkles? Arthritis? No gracias.” He tweaked Abby’s nose. “At least you’ll stay gorgeous forever.”

Dan already looks middle-aged,” Jordan continued. At Dan’s glare he decided to elaborate. “I mean it in a good way! Look at you, all quiet and earnest. Like a hot, skinny Buddha.”

(Name) couldn’t help but burst into laughter at this, getting a glare from a blushing Dan. 

“Is he blushing? He’s blushing!” Jordan’s cackling was added to (Name)’s laughter, only serving to darken Dan's blush.

Abby gave (Name) and Jordan both a playful shove. “Leave him alone, you guys.” Turning to Dan, she said, “Don’t worry, Dan, you don’t look middle-aged. Jordan’s just messing with you. Trying to rile you up.”

“I reckon it’s working,” (Name) said, “judging by the state of his face.”

“You’re in an awfully good mood today,” Abby said, pretending that she hadn’t heard (Name)’s remark. “No nightmares?”

“I slept like a fricking baby,” Jordan said. “Probably thanks to being away from home.” 

Dan quickly changed the subject, clearly wanting to avoid getting too close to the topic of what they’d found last night in the office. “So, we were just talking about which classes we want to take. We were thinking about taking some together, you want to?”

“Sure,” Jordan said.

Debate on which courses they would take together kept the group occupied and well away from the topic of last night, which was awesome for everyone involved. Dan managed to agree with Abby on two classes, and Abby had convinced Jordan to take Life Drawing as well while Dan would be taking History of Psychiatry. (Name), somehow, perhaps by the grace of God, managed to get them all in one class together, an art history one to boot. French Gothic architecture, oh baby yes.

As they walked around, signing up for the courses that they wanted to take, they observed the courtyard that they were in. As they walked, they watched a small group of guys play a casual bocce ball match as people strolled through the early morning fog that still lay blanketed over the yard.

“Can you imagine doing this every day?” Dan asked.

“No, picking classes is so exhausting,” Abby said jokingly.

“No, I mean _this_. Walking around campus with kids who actually _want_ to be here.”

“Taking classes that I actually want to take is great, also,” (Name) said.

Jordan nodded. “Definitely.”

After registration, everyone was split into smaller groups and sent off to little rooms on the main floor of Wilfurd Commons for orientation. Once inside their designated room, they were greeted by a professor and a red-head who handed them each a small stack of pamphlets filled with information such as maps, resource centers, what to do in the case of emergencies, and so on. The red-head recognized Jordan, giving him a slight wave and a “what’s up” before moving on.

“Joe,” Jordan nodded towards the red-head. “He’s a hall monitor on my floor. Haven’t we been through all of this information already?” he muttered as he flipped through the pamphlets briefly. “I’ve read all this stuff already. Do we really have to go through this again?”

“He’s kind of cute, yeah?” Abby said, looking briefly at the only other possibly interested two for reactions.

“Uh, no thanks, Abs. Not a hall monitor, that’s forbidden fruit. Ha ha, get it? Fruit?” Jordan snickered. “Ah man, I crack me up.”

(Name) couldn’t help but lightly smack Jordan’s arm. “You’re the only one,” he said lightly. “Nope,” he replied to Abby’s questioning gaze.

“Some of these kids probably haven’t. It’s just in case, I guess,” Dan replied, pulling the conversation back to the presentation (at least more than it had been).

“Have you been away from home like this before Dan?” Abby asked Dan conversationally, the question causing Dan to stiffen. _Right,_ (Name) thought to himself. _Home life is a no-go._

Dan was saved from answering by the lights dimming and the professor asking for silence.

“Good morning guys, I’m Professor Reyes and this lovely young man right here is Joe McMullan. I know that you’re probably all bored with this orientation stuff already, so I’ll make this quick and as painless as possible.”

(Name) began to space out, hearing the droning of the teacher and the faint rustling of Dan pulling one of his papers out to look at it. He glanced at Jordan, who was staring with glazed eyes at a spot above Professor Reyes’ head, quite obviously bored out of his mind. Abby, at least, had the grace to feign interest and not look half-dead as Professor Reyes went on about dorm safety.

(Name) jumped slightly as Professor Reyes clapped her hands together loudly. “Right! If you have any questions, feel free to ask at any time! Brookline has a rich history and past, and I would love to answer any questions that you may have about it. History is nothing to be afraid of.”

As the students stood and began to slowly file out the room, (Name) glanced back and stared, transfixed.

“(Name), are you coming?” Abby called, already halfway out the door.

(Name) blinked, and turned to follow. “Yeah, yeah…” He looked back, but Professor Reyes’ back was to the class as she spoke to Joe the hall monitor. He shook his head. He could have sworn that Professor Reyes had been staring at Dan.

“What’s up?” Abby questioned as (Name) caught up to her.

“Nothing. I thought… nothing, I must have been seeing things.”

“Alright. Well, let’s get going. Dan and Jordan are already ahead, and it’s time for lunch. I’m starving!”

As Abby and (Name) headed out and back into the courtyard to meet up with Dan and Jordan, (Name) couldn’t help but mull over what Professor Reyes had said, something that just didn’t seem to fit with a former insane asylum turned dormitory, especially not with the disturbing photos still hanging on the walls in the old office on the first floor.

_“History is nothing to be afraid of.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm from Portland Michigan originally. But Detroit is more recognizable, a long way away, and totally bitchin'. You don't have to be from there, but that's where you're driving from.  
> I am so so so hungry.  
> I'm getting food. Worst case is I have to edit this later. But it's going up, God damn it.


	6. Forget a Dream Within a Dream, This is More Like a Nightmare Within a Nightmare.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe ain't got shit on me.
> 
> (Name) starts to have nightmares. He didn't even _know_ those kind of "treatments" existed. Thanks, Asylum.
> 
> "I don't know about you but I seriously feel like a bit of a jackass right now," Kylie said as she typed up her fantastic fanfiction that was most definitely not, as _Mean Girls_ so tactfully put it, _"too gay to function."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a slight warning with this one. It's a nightmare (both literally and figuratively). About treatments in asylums before the insane (or homosexuals) were actually thought of as fricking people. Not gonna lie, a bit of violence. More like psychological/physical torture. I mean... you tell me that's not torture when it's over and done with.  
> Again. I'm an asshole. Sorry. I just wanted to put up a wee little warning because this is probably one of the few chapters that I feel will need one.

_(Name) was sitting in a chair in the middle of a room. The room stank of antiseptic and upon further inspection, he saw a small hospital bed with leather restraints. When he looked at it, a sense of foreboding washed over him and he couldn’t suppress a shudder._

_He tried to stand up only to find that he wasn’t just sitting in the chair; he was strapped to it. He was wearing a dingy hospital gown, frayed and greying with age and neglect._

_Panicking, (Name) began to struggle in an attempt to break free of the restraints. He struggled, but to no avail. After several minutes of a fruitless struggle, (Name) gave it up as a bad job, slumping forward in the chair._

__

_It was almost immediately after this that he heard movement just outside the door. (Name)’s head shot up as the heavy metal door creaked open, revealing two orderlies and a nurse holding a syringe in hand._

_“Now, (Name), please make this easier for yourself, and for all of us,” one of the orderlies said. Or he thought it was one of the orderlies. Only one moved his mouth, but there was a strange echo that followed every syllable that he uttered. The voice was strangely familiar, although it was far more ominous, more eerie, and had no face to be associated with it._

_“We are prepared to sedate you again, if need be,” the voice continued. “Please do not force us to do so. Your mother and father would be very disappointed to see their son act this way.”_

_(Name) opened his mouth to respond, to tell them exactly where they could stick that needle, only to find that nothing came out of his mouth, no sounds at all. The orderly seemed to be able to read his mind, because he responded with a tone that sounded like mock sympathy._

_“Now, (Name), don’t be frightened. It was for your own good.”_

_The orderlies began to approach the chair which (Name) was strapped to, causing waves of panic to surge through him._ He had to get out, he had to get out… _Despite the earlier warnings, he began to struggle again, straining against the already taut leather straps restraining him._

_“(Name). I will not ask you to stop again,” the orderly sighed as he began to loosen the strap across (Name)’s chest ever so slightly. “You may either cease this foolishness and cooperate, or we will have to sedate you.”_

_(Name) grit his teeth and forced out the first words that he could think of. “Stick it up your ass,” he spat._

_The orderly frowned. “Now, now, this will not do,” he chided. “I’m afraid that that behavior will simply not be tolerated. Nurse?”_

_The nurse stepped forward, pulling out a small vial of what was assumedly sedatives. As she slid the needle into the vial and began to pull the plunger up, filling the syringe with the sedative, her face came into focus for the first time. (Name) gaped._

_“Mom?” he choked out._

_His mother said nothing, only fixing him with a curiously hollow stare that was a mixture of disappointment and indifference. She freed his right arm of its restraint, only to hold it down with her own hand._

_“Mom, please stop,” (Name)’s voice cracked. He didn’t understand. Why would his mother do this to him?_

_She still didn’t respond, only rolled up his sleeve and tested the needle, squirting out a small amount of the sedatives before readying his arm._

_In a last desperate attempt, (Name) grabbed her hand and used it to push her as harshly as he could, hopefully causing her to lose balance. One of the orderlies stopped to pick her up from the floor, then fixed (Name) with a glare filled with such loathing, such hatred, that it made (Name) feel like he was the most despicable creature to ever crawl the earth._

_“How dare you shove your mother?” a voice boomed, and suddenly (Name) had a face to put to the voice. The orderly’s face had morphed into that of his father, a contemptuous sneer distorting his otherwise handsome features. “How dare you refuse the help we’re giving you?”_

_“I don’t need help!” (Name) shouted as the other faceless orderly held him securely. His mother shuffled back over to him and pushed up his sleeve that had slid back down during his half-baked bid for freedom._

_“Mom, please stop! Mom! I don’t need help!” he repeated. His pleas fell on deaf ears. She said nothing as she slid the needle into his arm and injected the sedatives into his bloodstream._

_(Name)’s vision began to grow fuzzy and unfocused, and the last thing that he could remember seeing was his father’s face, filled with disappointment and unexpressed anger. The last time he had seen him before leaving._  
  


* * *

  
  
 

_(Name) slowly awoke to the sounds of rustling. His blurry and unfocused vision did little to soothe his roiling stomach and his pounding headache. He tried to rub his temples, but found that he could only move his arms six inches or so. He felt tough leather restraints on his arms and his legs as he struggled against them._

_As his vision slowly began to refocus, he came to realize that he had been strapped down to the bed in the corner of the room that he’d been in when the orderlies came._ The orderlies… _(Name) felt a sudden stab of panic. His father and mother were here. He turned his head as much as it would allow, attempting to look around the room. He saw little, save for a small streak of blood that seemingly lead to the bed where (Name) was held, and a wall with a window that most certainly hadn’t been there before. When (Name) squinted, he was able to see slightly blurred figures watching him struggle._

_It seemed like hours before someone came in again, injected him with a drug of some sort, and left, almost slamming the door behind them. (Name) had a good idea of what it was after a few minutes, when the feelings of sickness returned with even more intensity. The drugs did little to help (Name) as they were supposedly intended to do._

_Rather, they served to place him in a near catatonic state as he drifted in and out of consciousness._

_(Name) couldn’t help himself from being sick, and managed a grimace afterwards, disgust at himself and that he was unable to clean it up or at least himself. Muttering and what sounded like arguing was issuing from beyond the window looking into the room. He managed to catch his own name in what sounded like his father’s voice, although it was slightly distorted._

_His parents were arguing, his father saying over and over that “it wasn’t working” and that they’d have to try again. He couldn’t hear his mother’s voice, as she was generally a quieter being than his father, but she most likely gave her consent, as not a minute later the door slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang that (Name) couldn’t help but flinch away from._

_“Dad, stop it. Please,” (Name) rasped. His throat was sore… when did that happen? He choked back the rising bile and tried to find his father’s eyes. He hoped that he would see him and how he felt and that he would be compelled to stop. Of course, that’s not how his father worked. His gaze was met with a sneer and a look of disgust._

_“Get up,” his father said as he reached for him. (Name) flinched away, trying to scoot as far as he could possibly get from the man in restraints._

_“Stop struggling!” he snarled as his hand slipped on the buckle of (Name)’s left arm restraint._

_(Name) refused to listen and continued to struggle harder, attempting to lash out until he felt a sharp pinch in his neck. The last thing that he saw as his vision tunneled out was his mother shushing him._

_“Shh, sweetheart. This is for the best.”_

  


(Name) jolted awake, his mother’s words echoing in his ears. He pushed himself up, realizing that he was covered in a cold sweat. He took slow and steady breaths to try and calm the pounding of his rapidly beating heart that harshly beat against his ribcage in his chest. He felt as though he’d just run a marathon. He wiped his forehead and grimaced. He could still taste the bile on his lips, could still feel the chafing leather restraints. That nightmare had been far worse than any he had had in a long while.

He shook his head, as though he was trying to clear the thoughts from his head as though one would rid oneself of water from their ear.

 _Just a dream,_ he thought, trying to convince himself, albeit unsuccessfully. He looked at the small clock on his bedside table, then glanced at Josh, who was sound a sleep and snoring lightly. Good thing he was a heavy sleeper, the last thing that (Name) needed was to wake his roommate up with psychotic thrashing and yelling.

(Name), now slightly more calm, took two more deep breaths before sliding back down underneath the covers. _It wasn’t real,_ he told himself as he closed his eyes to attempt to catch that flighty temptress, Sleep (and certainly not Titania, Oberon’s fairy queen). _Just a dream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I took some liberty with the lovely parent-child relationship. This isn't here just to make life complicated (even though that is part of the reason), it's also because I really wanted to find a way to incorporate how homosexuals were viewed by society and how they were treated in the 1950s-1971 or so in insane asylums. I did a little research, to be original, and damn they were treated horribly. Like... it was bad even for back then. In Cali, there was a loophole in the law that actually allowed asylums to castrate homosexuals. Fucked up.  
> -ANYWAYS, there was indeed an actual point to this which will be either obvious soon or not so subtly built up to.


	7. Do Not Try and Bend the Spoon, That's Impossible. And so is Making This Matrix Quote Work with the Story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan, Abby, and (Name) draw shit, Dan is out of both the literal and proverbial picture, Harry Potter is amazing (and so is Jim Dale), and Jordan needs to eat more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deary me, where have I been?  
> Well, after the last chapter, I fell into a bit of a slump. And a bit of a fit of anxiety and depression, because life is ever so fun. So um, today's Thanksgiving and I hope to have this chapter out soon. Here's to hoping.  
> Oh yes, and Microsoft Word is shutting down on me in a couple of days. So I've had to move everything over to Google Docs because I'm not paying for shit.

(Name) met Dan the next morning and walked down to breakfast together in silence. This wasn’t exactly an issue for (Name), as he had been unable to return to sleep after a second nightmare unrelated to the first. Dan had looked just as exhausted, if not more, and (Name) took that as an excuse not to speak, which Dan was clearly grateful for.

Dan choked down a quick breakfast and left (Name) and Abby, whom they had met at their now usual table, taking off across the hall and to his first class. (Name) turned to Abby, who was still holding cold spoons to her eyes, and stubbornly stating that it would work to help her appear less tired.

“So have you actually tried that before, Abby?” (Name) said, amusement coloring his tone. “Does it actually work?” (Name) scooted down to make room for Jordan, who had come into the cafeteria just as Dan had sprinted out like a bat out of hell. “Because it looks only slightly ridiculous from my end.”

Abby made a face, which, with the spoons still resting on her eyelids, only served to make her look even more ridiculous. “Yes, I have. I am a teenage high school student. If you haven’t pulled an all-nighter in your life, then _the Phantom Menace_ was a good Star Wars movie.”

(Name) cringed. “Not even funny to joke about, Abby. Leave that movie in the trashcan, where it and _Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull_ belong. No. Nope. No.” He trailed off after his third no; luckily, neither Jordan nor Abby seemed to mind his going off on a slight tangent, happy for something to talk about, because who doesn’t like ripping on George Lucas? George Lucas, that’s who.

“ _Crystal Skull_ just did not work with any of the rest of the franchise,” Jordan said, pausing to take a bite of his toast. “It’s like they didn’t even try. ‘Space between spaces,’ my ass. Aliens? _Really_?”

(Name) nodded. “Don’t forget the cheap and generic group of Soviet villains. Thanks for yet another film demonizing Soviets, really didn’t have quite enough of those.”

Abby, having removed the spoons from her face, looked at the two and shook her head as though she couldn’t believe that she was sitting with them. “All right nerds,” she said, glancing at her watch. “Class starts in twenty. Let’s go, there’s no way I’m going to be late today.”

Fortunately, they only managed to get lost once on their way to their class. Unfortunately, thanks to (Name)’s rather poor sense of direction, this caused the three to be very nearly late, which would have been a very bad thing to do on the first day of classes. Abby was unhappy with (Name), obvious by the glares that she had been shooting at him since he’d admitted that they were lost. Jordan however, didn’t seem to much care; maybe because he hadn’t the faintest idea where they had been going either.

They plopped down on the empty stools surrounding a table, (Name) sliding his bag under the table so that no passerby would trip over it, Jordan placing his own on the table. He pulled out his phone and began to text with a bored expression on his face.

The professor came bustling in shortly after the bells from the church in town finished chiming the hour, pulling in a rather large crate full of easels and paints (obviously not for this class) behind her.

“Good morning all, sorry I’m late. Had to grab some materials for my next class last minute. I trust you will be able to refrain from texting or snapchatting for the remainder of the class?” She said, referring to half of the class’ hardly noticing her entrance.

“Today, I want you to sketch one of your classmates, hopefully get to know a few people in the process.”

(Name) made a bit of a face at this, which luckily went unnoticed by the teacher. He’d had enough stress for today, thanks, and he didn’t quite fancy the idea of meeting new people.

Jordan caught sight of (Name)’s expression and let out a guffaw of nearly inaudible laughter while Abby rolled her eyes ever so dramatically.

“Right, so, partner up! Introduce yourselves and get busy! You’ve got half an hour.”

(Name) hazarded a glance at Abby, who had, as soon as the teacher had stopped talking, practically flown over to one of the other girls in the class. Well, no luck there. He was extremely surprised at how quickly she’d been able to strike up a conversation with the girl, even with the gift of gab that she had. As he watched the scene unfold with slightly raised eyebrows, Jordan spoke up, as though he was reading (Name)’s mind.

“That’s her roommate,” he said as he subtly slid his phone out of his pocket to type a quick message. “She’s also into art and stuff.”

“Ahh, the artists together. Lucky, lucky,” (Name) replied, picking up his pencil and glaring ever-so-slightly at the paper in front of him, as though it had done him a personal injury. _Someone to sketch, eh?_

(Name) glanced at Jordan, who was still tapping away at his God forsaken phone, before clearing his throat to get Jordan’s attention.

“Mind if I sketch you?” (Name) asked, already getting to work on a basic outline.

Jordan stopped texting, confusion flitting across his face momentarily before being replaced with a look of cool indifference. “Sure, man,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket and taking his own pencil in hand.

(Name) quietly sketched out Jordan’s face, taking in his features as he himself concentrated on sketching. _Wow, he was really rather fetching,_ (Name) thought. _His general attitude, however… not so much._

Without realizing it, (Name) let out a sigh, resulting in not only an odd look from Jordan, but also such looks from several nearby students. The silence of the room was suddenly deafening, and that one little sound had broken that silence, had broken that peace.

(Name) felt himself flush, the hot itchy feeling of embarrassment from the weight of so many eyes upon him creep up his neck. He swallowed hard and returned his own gaze to his paper, determined to ignore anyone still watching him.

The room lapsed back into its rather stuffy and uncomfortable silence, broken only by the scratching of pencils on paper.

(Name) was just finishing the final details and beginning the shading as the teacher finally spoke up.

“Time’s up, folks. I’ll take these, and we’ll use these for a critique at the end of the week,” she said as she collected the students’ drawings and placed them a folder on her desk.

The rest of the time was spent on two still-lifes preceded by a short lecture on the history of still-lifes and by lunchtime, combined with the lack of sleep the previous night, it was no surprise that (Name) felt completely drained, so much so that he had twice very nearly fallen asleep at the table.

“It’s not my fault that super math is boring,” he muttered after the second time, resulting in a pause in conversation and a rather nasty look from Jordan.

“Says the history nerd,” grinned Abby, managing to cut off Jordan in what might have been a scathing retort.

(Name) shrugged. “History is fascinating; it repeats itself. Plus I get to sound smarter than I really am. If going on about the strategic brilliance of the defences of Castle Corfe doesn’t make you sound intelligent then I don’t know what does.”

Dan laughed, and Abby rolled her eyes, muttering something about “nerds” with a small smile. Jordan,to his credit, said nothing. Abby brought up her excitement for her next class, which she so happened to share with Dan, allowing them to lapse into a fairly comfortable silence, listening to her ramble on excitedly. To be honest, (Name) was truly amazed that she had so much energy despite looking so incredibly drained and exhausted just some hours previous.

So lost in his own thoughts was (Name) that he hadn’t noticed anything until Abby and Dan both rose from their seats and grabbed their bags.

“Where are you off to?” (Name) asked in a slightly bemused tone.

“Class,” Dan answered as Abby looked rather cross.

“I literally just said that, (Name),” she added, sounding exasperated.

(Name) apologized, at least having the grace to appear slightly sheepish as the pair exited the dining hall, chatting presumably about their next class.

“Dan ask Abby out yet?” Jordan asked, slightly startling (Name) at the sudden inquiry.

(Name) shrugged. “Dunno. But based off of how nervous and uptight he still acts around her, I would have to say no.”

Jordan absentmindedly flicked a piece of rice off the table. “He needs to chill out,” he said in a matter-of-factly tone.

(Name) nodded. “It's always easier to bond with another person if you don’t have your knickers in a twist.”

Jordan snorted, causing (Name) to questioningly raise a brow.

“‘Knickers?’” he said, smirking. “Who, in this century, uses that word?”

(Name), being the mature young adult that he was, stuck his tongue out at him. “I do.”

“Wow, you are _such_ a nerd.”

“Oh, hush,” (Name) rolled his eyes but couldn’t manage to conceal the smile that had crept onto his face. “You done?” he said gesturing to Jordan’s half-eaten lunch. With a half shrug from Jordan, they got up and tossed the remainders of their lunches and headed to the courtyard for some air.

“So now what?” Jordan said, breaking the comfortable and not at all awkward silence that had settled like a blanket over the pair.

“We could…. Listen to _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ on audiobook?” (Name) suggested. In response to the incredulous look he received, he tried again. “ _Half-Blood Prince_?”

“Oh my God,” Jordan groaned. “Kill me now.”

“Oh, stop your griping,” (Name) grinned as he pulled out his iPod and selected the album. “It never gets old, and it only hurts for a minute. Now, shut up and listen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back at it, this chapter seems  
> A: to be way shorter than it was when I was writing it  
> and B: one of the worse chapters that I've written.  
> This may be due to both the lack of any clue of what I'm doing and the mixed efforts of depression and the need to get something out. This is more of a filler and my attempt to get this shit rolling again. This is my favorite story still and I legit have only one other story that I'm working on currently, and it's all about the majesty that is Jaime Lannister. Because after _Storm of Swords_ , he is a god. One of the Seven. Fuck yes.  
> Anywho, I hope you don't want to murder me for this chapter. It was okay at first but I feel like I took a dive off of Shit Cliff and landed in the Bay of Mediocrity. The next one will probably be better. At least y'all won't seem as much like strangers?


	8. Unexpected Cardio is About as Pleasant as a Sledgehammer to the Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have I got some sexy sexy filler for you. (Name) likes Fire Emblem and is rarely noticed by the professors, Dan is working on figuring more out about Brookline's charming history so he can open up a bed and breakfast, Abby is intent on interrupting Ylisse's inevitable victory, and Jordan is still unhappy from being forced to listen to Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm sorry that I've not gotten any of this out lately. Personal issues, you know how those are nudge nudge wink wink say no more, know what I mean?  
> And it had to be Fire Emblem. It is integral to the plot. Only not really. I just couldn't think of any other game. My chromfidence is toast...

“(Name)?”

(Name) glanced over at Dan, wondering why he was giving him such a sour look. “What?” He asked, momentarily distracted from his game. Dan’s scowl deepened.

“Were you even listening?” He asked with an exasperated tone, already knowing the answer.

“Uh… not really. Sorry, I was playing a game,” (Name) said, not sounding very sorry as he returned to his game. “What did you say?” He added.

“What do you think about Abby? Do I have a chance?” Dan repeated, sounding as though he was dreading the answer.

(Name) flipped his 3DS shut, choosing to focus now on Dan rather than Robin and defeating the army of Risen that had appeared. “Yeah, Dan. She’s into you, man.”

Dan obviously wasn’t expecting this response, made obvious by the expression of mixed shock and delight. “Really?” He said slowly.

(Name) resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead nodding. “Dude. Why would I steer you wrong? She’s totally into you. You ask her out, she’ll say yes.”

(Name) flipped his 3DS open again, returning to his game and missing the expression of utter relief that flooded Dan’s face.

Dan returned to what he’d been doing previously as well, which was reading furiously and noisily as though his life depended upon it. It was the third death of Chrom and the fifth noisy page turn that lured (Name) back from his military campaign across Plegia and back into the real world. Looking over at his intensely focused friend, he couldn’t help but crack a grin.

“Man, whatever that poor book did to you, I’m sure it’s sorry. No need to be so forceful with it.”

“Huh? What? Oh,” Dan said, rather startled by the sudden sound of (Name)’s voice. “Right. Sorry.”

“So, what are you reading?” (Name) asked as he fought the urge to lean over Dan’s shoulder to read it himself.

“Uh, nothing. Just something about Brookline from the library.”

(Name) let out a laugh. “Wow, Dan. You really are into that kind of stuff aren’t you? So, what happened here? Anything particularly crazy?”

Dan shook his head slowly. “Aside from the insane treatment of the mentally ill? Doesn’t really look like it. I did read some weird article last night, though.”

“Oh yeah? Let me guess. Some doctor went psycho on the patients.”

“Well… no. There was a serial killer called the Sculptor held here in the 1960s. When the place was shut down they never found a trace of him.”

“Oh. Crazy art students are always the worst. Just ask Abby, I’m sure she’ll agree with me.”

They slid back into a not wholly uncomfortable silence if (Name) did say so himself, and kept that silence until they were joined by Abby and Jordan who both looked to be rather worn out.

“Hey Dan, hi (Name),” Abby said, always one for politeness (or at least for a proper greeting). She was, however, slightly disappointed with the lack of reaction she received. Dan was still wrapped up in his book and had given no sign at all that he was aware of their presence and (Name), who was attempting to defeat an enemy army in his game, gave her little more than a slight wave of acknowledgement.

“Hey!” (Name) exclaimed as Abby snatched his 3DS from his hands, snapped it closed and slid it into her bag. “Hey, I know I probably should have given you a better hello but I was kind of in the middle of something!”

“C’mon, (Name) that stuff will rot your brain,” Abby said, waving him off and ignoring his irate grumbling. “It doesn’t matter, anyhow. Our next class starts in five.”

(Name) let out a groan and made a show of getting up and slinging his bag over his shoulder, only ceasing his dramatics after Abby exasperatedly handed him his game back. As the three began to walk, (Name) noticed something.

“Uh, Dan?” He said, turning around only to realize that Dan was where they’d left him, seemingly unaware of the time and that his friends had just headed off without them. “Dan? Class.”

A muttered curse had Dan shoving his book into his bag in a careless matter that very nearly made (Name) wince and practically sprinting to catch up to his friends. They managed to find the building without getting lost even once, thanks to Abby’s sense of direction not being completely horrible. Or at least being better than (Name)’s. It seems that many other students also had the brilliant idea of coming to class mere minutes before it began, as when (Name) pulled open the door for Abby, Dan, and Jordan to head through, he wound up holding it for a steady stream of fellow students. And (Name), being the nice guy that he was, couldn’t just leave the door for someone to get hit by or to hold it themselves, no. He had manners, dang it.

The onslaught of students headed to class eventually thinned out, allowing (Name) to finally be able to slip inside of the building. He was certain he would be late now. Great. The door’s hinges squealed as it slammed shut behind him, cutting off the noises of the outside and the light, briefly plunging him into darkness.

(Name) squinted, confused and disoriented at the sudden change of lighting. He turned around to see if a cloud of eternal darkness and enveloped the sun outside, only to find that, much to his distress and confusion, the only thing there to greet him was a long, dimly lit empty hallway.

A familiar cold and slightly claustrophobic feeling settled over him, one that closely resembled how he’d felt days ago in the old office room with Dan and the others. He felt something... wrong in the air.

“Umm, hello?” (Name) said shakily. None of the students that he’d seen not thirty seconds ago were anywhere to be seen, and even with the lack of light it was obvious that this wasn’t the same building. It felt like he’d fallen right into the twilight zone, and quite frankly, he did not feel like dealing with that shit. He slowly made his way down the hallway, constantly looking over his shoulder as he went. Not that he was expecting a horribly deformed monster to spring from the shadows intent on devouring his soul or anything, but one could never be too careful. Especially when one has probably seen one too many horror movies in their time.

He was maybe twenty feet away from where he’d started when a sound like something heavy and metal dragging against concrete filled the air, stopping him in his tracks. He listened. The empty hallway had the sound bouncing off of the walls, making it rather difficult to pinpoint the location of the sound, but after a few seconds, decided that it must be coming from ahead of him.

“Jesus shit, what am I doing? I’m going to get murdered so hard,” (Name) muttered to himself as he hazarded another step forward. The dragging sound continued. “Aw man, this is such a bad idea…”

He was considering turning back and sprinting in the opposite direction until he found something that didn’t seem straight out of a horror film when the dragging suddenly ceased, leaving him in a still fairly dark but now silent corridor. Another step.

He’d barely taken his fourth step when a bloodcurdling scream echoed down the corridor. He jumped, turned tail and sprinted back the way he’d come. He tried to ignore the screaming as it continued, and as it seemed to grow ever closer the harder he pushed himself to get away from whatever the heck it was.

He was lucky that he saw the sliver of light when he did, skidding to a halt and wrenching open the door, not bothering to look behind him to see whether or not something was truly there. The light blinded him momentarily, causing him to squint. As he adjusted to the light, he realized that he was in a closet. A janitor’s closet, to be more accurate.

“What even…?” He muttered as he finally began to get his breath back. “What sick kind of joke is this?” He sighed and took a quick look under the crack in the door and was more than a little bit relieved to see that there was a strip of light clearly visible underneath, and after a little more grumbling, stepped out of the tiny closet and back into the hallway.

His class wasn’t too far off, but had unfortunately started five minutes previously according to his watch. Because being frightened enough to hide in a closet wasn’t enough. He managed to find the lecture hall where his class was being held with little trouble. He also managed to nearly run straight into Professor Douglas, who was just about to shut the door. He was evidently surprised that a student would be so late to his class, based off of his expression, so (Name) began apologizing before he even had to say anything.

“I’m sorry I’m late sir. I uh… got a bit lost on my way,” (Name) said, scratching his head and doing his best to sheepish instead of on the verge of being physically ill. Fortunately for him, the professor spent very little time in reprimanding him, far more interested in shutting the door and getting back to what they would be covering over the course of their week together.

“Yes, yes. Don’t let it happen again. Take a seat.”

(Name)’s heart was still pounding, his palms still sweating as he took the first unoccupied seat that he saw. He managed to take a copy of the class’ schedule being passed out and tried to pay attention as best as he possibly could. His hopes of a boring lecture calming him were dashed as his mind continued to replay the scenario over and over. Something was chasing him and he had the feeling that whatever it was didn’t exactly want to play cards with him if it’d caught up.

He wondered if the vibe that Brookline gave off had anything to do with what he was seeing, whether he was just imagining things because of the creepy atmosphere or because of his nightmares. He wondered why Dan was so interested in the place. He wondered if he would ever manage to get through a class without looking like an ass. And he sure hoped he’d find the answer to at least one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, finished! You have no clue how long this took me to finish, this has seriously been sitting in my documents for like half a year. It's mostly due to personal issues. A bit of death and hospitaling had me busy for a good while. But I'm not busy anymore. I'll have some time to write, I have some free time for a while. I've got nowhere to be.  
> Door-holding is important dang it. And polite. And actually does separate you from people. Don't do it, kids. Just say no.  
> Honestly I was aiming to get just a tad bit further into the main story but I shall just end it here and write a longer chapter with what I wanted to write. Hope it doesn't disappoint.  
> Also, tried for spooky. Reckon it didn't work out too well, but hopefully it's not boring as all get out.  
> I actually am working on the next part too, so that will be up soon. I promise. My fingers aren't crossed behind my back or anything...


	9. Vague Shining References Are Cool, Shut Your Mouth This Instant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is finally starting on working up the courage to ask Abby the most important question he could ( Hey, do you want to know my secret identity? ;) ), and Jordan is irritated and quite frankly (Name) isn't quite sure what to do about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, bad stuff ahead. It's not terribly graphic. But I'm warning you nonetheless. I've never experienced anything like it but I can't imagine shock therapy is very pleasant from what I've read. Especially how it was administered to some people.  
> I've also done just the tinniest amount of editing with the previous chapters. Nothing particularly noteworthy, but I did. So there.  
> Well I thought I had something funny written here but apparently I do not so... The economy.

It wasn’t until after class that (Name) was able to catch up with Abby, Dan, and Jordan, who were all walking back towards the courtyard together.  
“Hey guys,” (Name) said, only slightly out of breath from nearly sprinting to catch up. “I miss anything important?”  
Jordan shrugged while Dan all but ignored him, seemingly intent on mooning over Abby while she wasn’t looking. “Not really. But what did we missed that had you all in a tizzy earlier? Caught skipping class or something?”  
“I definitely wasn’t locked in a janitor’s closet, if that’s what you mean, say nothing, Abby,” he said as Abby looked as though she wanted to make a horrible joke that despite the setup should never see the light of day. “I just got kind of turned around, that’s all.”  
Jordan, to his credit, said fairly little, and only smirked at him.  
“Hey, Abby! Hi, Jordan!” A voice from seemingly nowhere had (Name) whipping around trying to find its source. The source was in the form of a tall guy with a strong jaw who flung his arm around Abby’s shoulders. (Name) glanced at Dan, who seemed to be thinking something fairly similar: _just who is this guy?_  
“Y’all want to grab a coffee or something?” he asked, all smiles. Seemed pretty nice. Pleasant. Although the accent was sure something.  
Dan forced a smile onto his face that looked rather painful, in (Name)’s opinion, and held out a hand to shake. “I’m Dan.”  
“Ash,” he said, grabbing Dan’s hand in what looked like a deathgrip and shaking it rather firmly.  
“(Name),” (Name) said quietly, actually managing to get both of their attention. “Hey, we were all telling one another our names, thought I might get in on it.”  
“Pleased to meet you both,” Ash said, also grabbing (Name)’s hand and shaking it. All (Name) could do was hold on for dear life. “So, coffee?” Ash continued, jerking his head towards Wilfurd as (Name) ever-so-subtly shook the pain out of his hand.  
“I’m down for it,” Abby grinned. “Guys?”  
“Sounds good to me,” Jordan replied.  
“I can dig it,” (Name) said.  
Dan gave a halfhearted shrug and settled into his broody manner. He began to drop back from the happily chatting Abby and Ash. (Name) raised an eyebrow and shared a knowing look with Jordan, although he remained in the middle of the group when Jordan dropped back as well. His turn for Dan to drop his unfounded insecurities on him. Getting territorial over a girl that he’s not even with, kind of uncool, Dan.  
Watching Abby, Jordan, and Ash have a good time while Dan sat moping was also a little uncool. Not simply because Dan was not so subtly excluding himself, but also because no one seemed to care that he wasn’t talking at all and looked a little uncomfortable being there. (Name) wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself either, seeing as he wasn’t the most social person out there and trying to make conversation to a mopey and distracted Dan was like speaking to a wet newspaper. So, even though he didn’t really want to do it, he decided he had little reason to remain.  
“Well, gotta go,” (Name) said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Seeya later, guys. Nice meeting you Ash.”  
“I should probably get going too,” Jordan piped up. “I’ve got to meet someone soon for a group project. I’ll walk with you.”  
(Name) shrugged. “Alright,” he said, already on his way out (and remarkably so was Ash, what timing). Jordan fell into step with him and they began their walk back towards Brookline together.  
“So what kind of group project is this?” (Name) inquired, not really sure on what to say. Even if the silence didn’t need to be filled, it sure was now. “We’re not being graded on anything here.”  
Jordan didn’t seem to mind that he was speaking though, so that was good. “Just getting together to solve a supposedly impossible proof. Not so much a project as a challenge, I guess.”  
“Wow. That’s interesting. A little frightening, I know when I had to deal with proofs I would drive myself insane.”  
“They’re not so bad if you know what you’re doing,” Jordan said, looking pointedly over at (Name), who didn’t even bother to fake offense at the assumption. “Also, I wanted to try and give Dan a chance to be alone with Abby. Because it looks like he’s starting to go a little nuts.”  
(Name) felt himself smirk. “Tell me about it. When Ash came over, I swear he looked like he was either about to shout his confession of deep attraction or about to combust.”  
“Yeah, he needs to chill just a little. Hopefully this’ll help a bit.”  
“Well asserting dominance over passive aggressive glaring wasn’t working out too well for him to begin with, so I sure hope it does.”  
They continued chatting lightly all the way back to Brookline’s main stairway, where they said goodbye and went their separate ways, with (Name) heading back up to his room and Jordan continuing to one of the building’s study areas.  
“Wendy, I’m home,” (Name) sighed to the empty room as he entered, tossing his bag down on his desk and dropping right down onto the bed. (Name) was so drained that he’d all but forgotten the weird experience he’d had just this morning and welcomed sleep because sleep is the truest of friends.

__

 

* * *

  


_Being shocked, (Name) decided, was not fun in the slightest. Sure, he’d been shocked a couple of times before and while it sure hadn’t felt good, it felt like he’d been bouncing on a satin cloud to how he felt now. The electricity was coursing through him like a vibrating fire, and he swore that if he had to suffer it for much longer, his leg hair would vibrate off._  
_Even after trying to go along with what was clearly the plan, (Name) was being shocked. Even after begging for them to leave him alone, the pain persisted. It was times like these that (Name) almost missed the confinement room. At least when he was there he wasn’t in constant pain. Plus, the fact that there was no audience was always nice. He harshly bit down on the piece of leather in an attempt to avoid letting out a particularly loud yelp of pain._  
_“As you can see, the patient is exhibiting the desired behavior,” the cool detached voice sounded from behind him._  
_“He is showing remarkably less interest towards members of the same sex, though he is not yet showing interest when faced with proper stimuli, and is remaining focused on the current situation. Based off of the data collected when he was first admitted and that collected since, the patient’s progress can clearly be seen. Although admitted involuntarily, after the proper treatments and medications, he has shown a willingness to comply and has begun the walk down the road of recovery._  
_“It very well may be possible that within the next few months, he will be cured and cleared for discharge.”_  
  


* * *

  


_"Shit."_  
(Name) would have felt far better if he hadn’t woken up alone. His roommate was still out doing God knows what, probably hanging with friends. _Dick_ , (Name) thought bitterly before chiding himself.  
He reached over for his phone. 6:38 P.M. Not too late to call someone, (Name) decided. Dan wasn’t picking up, unfortunately, so (Name) punched Jordan’s number in with more force than was probably necessary, and waited for it to ring.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey Jordan. Could you… can I talk to you?” (Name)’s mouth had gone dry. He hoped he didn’t sound nearly as spooked as he felt.  
He heard nothing but rustling for a few seconds on the other line. Eventually Jordan’s voice… “Yeah. Wanna get food?”  
The two sat in a small forgotten corner of the dining hall, their usual spot taken.  
“You look horrible,” was the first thing Jordan said after they’d gotten their food.  
(Name) grimaced. “Sid Vicious horrible, or gum in hair and dragged through the mud horrible?”  
“What's the difference?”  
“How much I’m trying and about half a jar of hair gel.”  
He’d done little to try and look better before leaving his room, not wanting to be alone any longer than necessary. His hair stuck up at odd angles and he probably had bags under his eyes.  
Jordan started tucking into his meal. “So, what did you want to talk about?”  
(Name) hesitated. Did he really want to talk about some nightmare, even if it was terrifying, to someone he didn’t want to scare off? No, he decided, no he didn’t. He’d go for something that bothered him only slightly less.  
“So you know how Dan’s all interested in the weird shit the people in this place used to get up to?”  
Jordan frowned slightly. “Yeah, I guess.”  
“Well he was reading about this person who was incarcerated here back in the 60s. Killed a bunch of people, escaped when the place was shut down. They never found him.”  
Jordan, who seemed slightly less disapproving when he realized that (Name) hadn’t started ragging on Dan, rolled his eyes in a truly dramatic fashion. “Are you telling me that you wanted to talk about some kind of half-baked ghost story?”  
“It’s not a ghost story!” (Name) protested. “It’s more like… an urban legend or something. Anyways, it was apparently real enough to be recorded in an article about Brookline’s history.”  
Jordan shrugged. “Doesn’t mean crap. If it was from the internet, then the internet’s full of crazy people making stories up to get hits. If it was from the papers, then it could have been a ploy for tourism.”  
“Oh come on Jordan, you really think this place would want that kind of press? This is a family town,” (Name) sighed. “You’re probably right though. Could also just be something to scare kids from going out at night, who knows?” And with that, the topic was dropped.  
“You, uh, get anywhere on that super proof?” (Name) asked him conversationally.  
“Not really. At least, not too much further than you’d expect. It’s supposed to be impossible to prove so it’s not terribly surprising,” Jordan shrugged. “Good thing I’m up to the challenge.”  
“Good thing you’re cocky, too.”  
“Yeah, there’s that,” Jordan smirked. “Wanna watch _Thundercats_ after food?”  
“We’ve been over this Jordan, _Scooby-Doo_ or no dice.” The two tossed what remained of their food into the waste bins and started their trek back to Brookline at a leisurely pace.  
“You’re killing me, (Name). First you make me listen to _Harry Potter_ and now you’re making me watch _Scooby-Doo_?” Jordan sighed dramatically. “Fine. But next time it’s _Thundercats_. _And_ you’re bringing the booze.” (Name), 1. Jordan, 0.  
“Riiiiiight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, the songs are [Karma Chameleon by the Culture Club](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmcA9LIIXWw) and [Don't Worry Be Happy by Bobby McFerrin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-diB65scQU). Which is NOT by Bob Marley, I cannot stress it enough.  
> Being shocked is not fun, kids. I don't know how bad it was, but I've been shocked a couple of times by a power outlet. And it wasn't even my fault, I wasn't sticking a fork in it or anything. My finger brushed against the edge of a socket and bzzzt!  
> If it actually sounds like the dream is well-written and descriptive, then imagine the shocks on your genitals hahaha kill me  
> Okay one more thing. I'm changing the story just a tinny bit. Just... stretching it out a day. Because... well you'll see why. Hopefully it'll be worth it. And sorry this one is short and ends so abruptly. I just didn't think there was anything else to add.


	10. Winning isn't Everything, Except it Totally is.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting is fun, and the plot is rolling, more or less. Less. But still rolling. Up a muddy hill. In the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once, I don't have a lot to say here. Just I hope you like this, and Happy (slightly early) Halloween!

The next time that (Name) saw Dan, the guy was absolutely over the moon. For some reason, Dan wasn’t really telling him, choosing instead to rush off to his day’s classes and leaving (Name) to his own devices for the day. For some reason, he had not a single class with Abby, Dan, _or_ Jordan today, although he did manage to meet Jordan’s roommate Yi in one of his history courses. He seemed nice enough. Oddly, a little like Felix, minus the being creepy and dislikeable part.  
(Name) didn’t even see any of his friends until after dinner, when he met up with Jordan in the courtyard. A rather irate Jordan, in fact.  
“Hey Jordan,” (Name) said as he slid down next to Jordan, who was glaring at his phone. “What did the phone do to you this time? Technology got you down?” The lack of response had the smile fading from (Name)’s face. “What’s up?”  
Jordan said nothing, only shrugging and continuing to stare at his phone with a rather sour expression on his face.  
“Come on, man. Give me something here,” (Name) said as he stretched. It was already getting pretty dark and fireflies were just beginning to come out, dotting the landscape with tiny yellow lights. Aside from the sour Jordan next to him, it would be relaxing. “I mean, if you want me to keep talking until you have to punch me, then by all means, keep your silence. Or if you want me to sing, because I _will_ sing at you. Don’t test me on this.”  
Maybe that really was what finally got Jordan to speak up. “Was supposed to meet Abby to study after dinner. She never showed, never texted. Just blew me off.” He took a sip from a cup that (Name) hadn’t noticed until now.  
(Name) frowned. “She doesn’t seem much like the type to just leave people hanging, Jordan,” he said after a moment of consideration. “Maybe it was an emergency. Did she pick up her phone?” The lack of response was telling. “You didn’t call her?”  
Jordan said nothing in response, only shrugging.  
(Name) resisted the very strong urge to roll his eyes, instead sighing and pushing himself up from his seat. “Come on. Let’s go see if she’s in. I’m assuming you know her room and floor numbers?” An affirming nod had (Name) pulling his bag back onto his shoulders and moving towards Brookline. “Then let’s go. Lead the way, good sir knight.”  
The majority of the walk was made in relative silence, only being broken by Jordan’s muttered directions so that (Name) wouldn’t get totally lost. When they reached her door, (Name) knocked. No answer, and a quick check revealed that the door was locked and the lights weren’t on. In all likelihood, both Abby and her roommate were out.  
Cursing under his breath, (Name) sent out a quick text to Abby, hoping she’d get it wherever she was.  
_W/ Jordan. Where are you?_  
Sighing, (Name) plopped down next to Jordan who was glaring at the door.  
For a good while it was silent, with Jordan taking the occasional sip from his cup and tapping absentmindedly at his phone. (Name) ran a thumb over his own phone. Nothing. No texts from Abby, from his friends back home, from his parents. Nothing.  
(Name) took a swig from the bottle he’d pulled from his bag, grimacing at the flavor before offering it to Jordan, who stared at him as though he’d just announced that he was Liberace.  
“I’m good,” Jordan raised his cup and took another sip.  
“If you’re going to drink irresponsibly, then at least do it with the proper stuff, none of that watered down swill,” (Name) said simply.  
Jordan scoffed at the remark, but took the bottle and chugged from it nonetheless.  
The bottle was nearly empty by the time Abby arrived with Dan in tow, to (Name)’s mild surprise. He nudged Jordan, jerking his head in the direction of the two who’d obviously noticed them both by now. “Look who it is.”  
“Jordan, look, I’m so sorry,” Abby started, trying to go in for a hug which Jordan ignored completely.  
“No, it’s fine. Just break plans without letting me know. Whatever.” He took a heavy swig from the bottle and Abby zeroed in on it, her eyes narrowing.  
“Is that alcohol?” She asked slowly.  
“No.”  
(Name) snorted.  
“Fine, yes. You’re driving me to drink.” Looking right at Abby he tilted his head and chugged the rest of it.  
“Damn Jordan, shit’s expensive,” (Name) chided him mildly.  
Abby looked considerably irritated at the whole situation. “Look Jordan, I said I was sorry. And I mean it. But what else am I supposed to say? Why didn’t you call? Why did I have to get a text from (Name) instead of you?”  
Jordan scowled and avoided the question, instead choosing to start picking at the bottle. “I don’t know,” he finally said.  
“I think you do, Jordan,” Abby said, now on the attack.  
(Name) wasn’t too sure what he was to do as he watched two of his friends argue. He felt just about as comfortable watching it fold out as Dan looked, and would have much preferred a stoney silence to the embarrassing volumes their voices were rising to.  
“Uh, guys?” Dan finally cut in, gesturing to the door to Abby’s room. “Maybe we should go in before people start complaining about the noise.”  
Abby nodded tersely and lead the way into the room, with (Name) bringing up the rear, muttering about all of Brookline having heard them airing their dirty laundry in an also not-so-quiet voice.  
He paused from his muttering to take a look around the room, admittedly curious as to what Abby’s room looked like. Thanks to both Abby and her roommate being art students, the room was absolutely plastered in drawings, watercolors, and paintings with an occasional art poster making an appearance. And although he’d seen her artwork before in the classes they shared, he couldn’t help but be impressed at her skill. That is, until he saw the picture looming over her bed.  
Dan had noticed it too, based off of his visibly disturbed expression which (Name) assumed mirror his own. He glanced over at Jordan, whose expression hadn’t really changed since entering the room. Maybe he’d seen the drawing before, but whether it shocked him or not was anyone’s guess.  
“Sorry it’s such a mess in here.” Abby said as she added to the mess by chucking her bag onto her desk. She swept her clothes off her bed and onto the floor in order to make room to sit.  
“Sit,” she said, pulling the two desk chairs in her room over to the bed, before sliding into one herself. Dan and Jordan reluctantly sank onto the bed while (Name) took the chair next to Abby.  
“Spill, Jordan. Something’s up. What’s going on with you?”  
Jordan suddenly had a very difficult time looking at any of them, instead focusing on picking his nails. “Just… being left… well, it hit a nerve. I had this friend back home. Blake.” Jordan forced the name out, as though it physically pained him to say it. It just might have. “We were best friends, did everything together. Up until a few months ago, that is, when I came out to him. After that, he just sort of… disappeared. He stopped returning my texts, ignored me at school, and eventually… he’d just pass me in the halls and look through me, like I didn’t exist.”  
(Name) swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The silence from Abby and Dan was unsurprising as well, seeing as Jordan had apparently trusted them enough to reveal something incredibly personal.  
Dan glanced at Abby looking slightly guilty and Abby sighed softly.  
“Jordan. We wouldn’t leave you, and we’re not ignoring you. I’m really sorry. We both are. We were just kind of on a date.”  
Jordan’s previously sullen expression was briefly abandoned for one of surprise. “You were?”  
“We were?” Dan said almost simultaneously, making (Name) crack a smile despite himself. “I mean, we were,” he said, suddenly sounding much more confident.  
“Oh. Good for you,” Jordan said, not looking terribly as though he meant it.  
“We’ll call next time if we’ve made plans with you or anything, okay?” Abby added.  
Jordan shrugged. Despite the fact that he’d gotten what he wanted he didn’t seem certain as to whether he wanted to drop the irritated child act quite yet.  
(Name) however, satisfied that the issue was at least resolved for now, decided to bring the next one up to bat. “Right, so I’ll take creepy drawings for $500,” he said, jerking his head at the drawing of the girl over Dan and Jordan’s heads.  
Dan looked relieved, both that the conversation was over and that someone else had noticed and thought that it was odd. “Why did you draw her, Abby?”  
Abby shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I thought she deserved to be somewhere brighter for a while, somewhere not so dark, that wasn’t that office. Wow, that actually sounds really weird, now that I think about it,” Abby admitted. “Does that sound creepy to you?”  
“Pretty creepy, Abby,” (Name) agreed.  
“Yes,” Jordan put in, ever the helper.  
“Do you think so too, Dan?”  
Dan hesitated, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Abby. It _is_ kind of… unusual.”  
“Neutrality, huh, Dan?” (Name) muttered, as Jordan sent him a thumbs-up.  
Abby carried on, seeming to ignore the fact that anyone had even spoken to begin with. “I feel like she needs me. That’s all, call me crazy.  
“But anyways, I think we should get out of here. Go do something, maybe go somewhere. Hey, what do you say to going to check out the office again?”  
Jordan shook his head slightly, looking apprehensive. “I don’t know, Abby. The last time got pretty freaky…” he looked to Dan and (Name) to try and back him up.  
“I say to hell with that,” (Name) said immediately. “Last time got me dust in my hair for two days and enough nightmare fuel for the next few years, thanks.”  
And Dan, alas, was not their saving grace. “I say that we go check it out,” he said slowly.  
(Name) groaned. “You’re killing me, Petey.”  
“Well, it’s not like there’s anything down there,” Dan reasoned.  
“Yeah, right. That’s what they all say, right before they’re skewered.”  
“(Name), you’ve seen far too many horror movies.”  
“And you’ve seen far too few.”  
“Dan’s right!” Abby reached for Jordan’s hand, trying to convince him. She knew if she got one, the other was sure to crumble and just go along for the ride. “It’s just a bunch of old pictures. History’s nothing to be afraid of.”  
“It’s not just about that,” Jordan said irritably. “I don’t want us kicked out, I don’t want to get kicked out! I’m not supposed to even be here, if my parents found out about this--”  
“You know, we could always find something else to do.” Dan suggested.  
“I like Dan’s idea.”  
“Oh, come on guys. Dan and I really want to check it out,” Abby pressed. “Don’t we, Dan?”  
“Well, yeah, but--”  
“We might even find a clue about those weird emails of yours that you were talking about earlier.”  
“Your what now?” (Name) and Jordan said simultaneously, both heads turning to stare at Dan.  
“What kind of weird emails, Dan?” Jordan asked, seeming quite interested.  
Dan opened his mouth, but before he could managed to get anything out, Abby answered for him. “Dan got this weird email, but when he went to check it, it was gone. Some kind of doctor stuff or patient report.”  
Dan bristled. He clearly didn’t like where this was going, he probably thought he sounded crazy. _Mostly because he does_ , (Name) thought to himself.  
“Well, maybe it’s a data ghost,” Jordan said eventually.  
“A what?” Dan said, sounding confused.  
“It’s a fragment of human consciousness that gets stuck in a piece of technology after a person dies. It can communicate, but only for a little while before it starts going haywire and degenerating.” That sounded pretty darned eerie, in (Name)’s opinion, and based off of Dan’s expression, he seemed to think along the same line.  
“Is this a real thing?” Dan finally asked. “How have I not heard of it before?”  
“Because it’s not actually real.” Jordan laughed, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. “At least, I don’t think so. I saw it on an episode of _Doctor Who_. But it sounds similar though, right?”  
(Name) groaned. “Aww, come on, Jordan, did you really have to bring the Vashta Nerada into this? Was it not creepy enough already?”  
“Besides, Jordan, I think that the answer that Dan is looking for is a little less sci-fi and a little more realistic. And if it is, then he’ll probably find his answers down in the basement, right?”  
Jordan made a face mimicking (Name)’s, which Abby pointedly ignored. “You said it was doctor stuff? Well maybe there’s something down there that’s reaching out from beyond the grave or, I don’t know, sending psychic brainwaves to freak you out.”  
“Ooh gee, sounds like all the more reason to go down there and seek out the scary unknown force,” (Name) sighed.  
“I agree,” Jordan said matter-of-factly. “Even if there _was_ something down there, would you really think that it’s a good idea to go sticking your nose in it?” But to (Name)’s disappointment however, Jordan had clearly crumbled, evident by the crack in his voice at his next question. “What are you even hoping to find down there?”  
Dan shrugged. “I think I’ll know when we see it,” he said simply.  
“And here we go again,” (Name) said, pushing himself off of the seat and heading for the door in a slight huff. “If I die because of this I am so kicking all of your asses in Hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #guesswhofinallybroughtthebooze  
> Sorry that was literally what I had this chapter named as in my documents.  
> Wait, I'm not sorry.  
> Nvm.  
> I don't apologize for Petey.


	11. Krokus Had it Right When They Were Screaming in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People push their luck, the creepy dial is turned up, and it's starting to look like a Scooby-Doo episode. All we're missing is a dog and a "you meddling kids!"  
> There is still time, my friends. There is still time.

The next few minutes seemed to pass by in a blur. One minute, (Name) was standing in Abby’s room, and the next, he was watching Jordan pick the lock to the office a second time.  
He managed it much more quickly than last time, a feat which did not go unnoticed by (Name). It was simply unappreciated.  
“Once more into the breach?” Dan said quietly, seemingly trying to diffuse the tension that had draped itself over them like a thick blanket. Well to be fair, maybe it was the dust.  
“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here,” (Name) replied as he hesitantly stepped into the office once again.  
The room looked the same as it had the first time they’d been here, aside from the displaced dust. The atmosphere, however, had seemingly gotten even heavier. The air was harder to breathe and (Name) couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that they were being watched.  
They pushed ahead, going straight into the old warden’s office.  
“So where do we start?” Jordan said, glancing around the office nervously.  
“I feel like there has to be more to the old wing,” Dan replied, scanning the office. “There should be another door around here somewhere. I doubt that the townspeople would try to tear the place down over just a dusty office… look for doors, latches, anything.”  
None of the others helped Dan, instead choosing to do what they did best. Abby gravitated over to the girl’s portrait, Jordan stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed and looking extremely nervous, and (Name) decided to start digging through the warden’s desk.  
The desk seemed to contain little worth note, aside from several notes seemingly written in shorthand along with a few photos, which would be normal if they hadn’t had their eyes all scratched out. _Right. Not creepy at all._  
“Man, does anyone else feel like we’re in an episode of _Scooby-Doo_ or something?” (Name) asked after a few minutes. “I mean come on, we’re on a vacation and something weird happens, leading us to a groovy mystery? No? Just me?”  
Jordan wrinkled his nose, even in his state of disquiet managing to find contempt for what (Name) had to say. “‘Groovy?’ Really, (Name)?”  
“Well it’s not my fault that the 60s and 70s had weird lingo.”  
Jordan opened his mouth to probably say something sassy in return, when Dan spoke up suddenly. “I think I’ve found something.” He started pulling at the old filing cabinet that he had been examining, seemingly only realizing that it was too heavy for him after he couldn’t get it to do anything other than drag across the floor, shrieking indignantly at his ministrations.  
“What are you doing?” Jordan hissed, his eyes darting to the door as though worried that someone had heard the sound.  
“Hold on, let me help,” Abby said, hurrying over to help. She grabbed an edge, and together, she and Dan managed to pull the filing cabinet out to reveal what looked to be a passage.  
“What the hell?” Jordan said.  
“A secret passage? Is this for real?” Abby breathed.  
“No, it’s an episode of _Scooby-Doo_ ,” (Name) answered, ever-so-helpfully. "Weren't you listening?"  
She turned to Dan, who looked almost as surprised as she did. “How did you know that this was here?”  
“The glasses,” Dan gestured in the direction of a pair of bloodied glasses hanging on a hook that (Name) hadn’t noticed until they were pointed out. And of course, not far from the glasses there were streaks of blood on the wall. Not only was it possible that whoever had owned those was a serial killer, but he also was obviously very unhygienic.  
“I’m not going in there. No thanks. Nope,” Jordan took a few steps back, holding his hands up as if in surrender.  
Abby shrugged. “Suit yourself. I want to see where this leads.”  
Dan pulled his phone out, turning on his flashlight and heading into the darkness, Abby close on his heels.  
Minutes passed by, the only sounds being the creaking of old pipes and the dripping of water in the distance. Even those sounds seemed to slowly slip away, replacing it with a suffocating silence.  
“What’s in there?” Jordan called to Dan and Abby, breaking the silence that had settled over them like a blanket.  
“If some freaky ghost demon is over there then I’m not coming to save you,” (Name) said.  
“Very noble of you, (Name),” Jordan observed.  
(Name) shrugged. “I’m a nice guy.”  
“Nothing much,” Dan answered from the other room. “I think just patient records. It's safe to come in, not a ghost demon in sight.”  
(Name) followed Jordan into the next room reluctantly, taking in the new area. A fairly small room with little aside from filing cabinets and a dark stairwell that lead down, presumably into the bowels of Hell.  
Jordan noticed the staircase as well, his face taking on a spooked expression as he visibly recoiled. “Please tell me you're not thinking of going down there.”  
Abby replied, already halfway to the stairwell. “We haven't even found anything yet. I bet this leads to a lower level.”  
“Which is the exact reason you shouldn't go. Haven't you seen a single horror movie?”  
Abby shook her head. “Look, I just want to see where it goes. And these stairs seem perfectly safe,” she added as she transferred her weight to the first step with no incident. “See? Come on. (Name)? Dan? You with me?”  
“Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Dan agreed as (Name) shook his head rather violently behind him.  
“No thanks. No death for me tonight. I’m on a no-death diet, you see. Terribly allergic, I’m afraid,” he wasn't sure when he’d ceased to be speaking clearly and not simply mumbling, but he knew that it had been clear enough to Jordan and Dan, both of whom couldn't help but let out quiet snorts of laughter.  
“Right. So you guys go. Head right into the abyss, while we stay up here and avoid being axe murdered,” Jordan said.  
Dan and Abby began their descent further into the old building, the darkness swallowing them whole as they retreated down.  
“Oh jeez…” (Name) sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against a filing cabinet that looked rather worse for wear. “Ever feel like we're just making the worst possible decisions anyone can make in this situation?”  
Jordan shrugged, switching on his flashlight and moving to the filing cabinet beside (Name). “At least we don't have a death wish. Or at least, less so than Dan and Abby.”  
He wrenched the filing cabinet open, causing (Name) to flinch at the metal grating against rusty metal. Jordan let out a curse as he dropped his phone.  
“I’ve got it,” (Name) said, picking Jordan’s phone up and shining it so that Jordan could clearly see while he worked.  
“Wow,” Jordan murmured as he read through some of the files.  
“‘Wow?’ What do you mean, ‘wow?’” (Name) moved to read over his shoulder. “Oh. Wow.”  
“Hey guys? I think you should see this!” Jordan called, summoning the others to their sides once more. “There are a load of files here, and get this: every one of them was criminally insane.” Jordan pulled out the file of one Frank Bittle to show Dan and Abby. And then another. And then another.  
“This one burned down his house with his family inside,” Abby whispered, sounding and looking incredibly disturbed.  
“They sure didn't mention this in the brochure,” Jordan muttered as he read another one. “This guy killed three wives before they sent him here.”  
“Kinda reminds me of Bluebeard, that one,” (Name) remarked, earning an odd look from Jordan and Abby. “Bad time?” He shrugged and moved back, allowing the others more space as they pored over the new information about the ghosts of asylum's past. He was content to watch. He wanted to sleep tonight, thanks.  
That is, until a hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Got you!”  
“Jesus Christ!” (Name) jumped about a foot into the air, whipping around to see a rather angry looking Joe the hall monitor. “Aw shit man, you scared the hell out of me,” (Name) said, clutching a hand over his rapidly beating heart. Looking around, it seemed to be that the sudden exclamation hadn’t startled only him. Dan was also wearing an expression that said that he was trying to play down his own expression of surprise and fear.  
“Hey, chill out, dude. You shouldn’t be down here, someone could get hurt,” Joe said, arms crossed with a stern expression on his face. “What, were the padlock and big sign on the door not enough of a hint?” He gestured towards the way out, back towards the offices. “Let’s go, come on. It’s not safe here, there’s water damage and structural issues, not to mention rats.”  
Dan was clearly in full-on panic mode at this point. (Name) could practically hear the wires in his brain short circuiting as he tried to process the situation and figure a way out of it simultaneously, but he could only come up with a stutter before promptly shutting his mouth and giving up, opting for a flustered silence.  
Joe turned round to lead them out, and as (Name) also turned to follow him out, he could swear that he saw movement from the general area where Dan was standing. (Name) glanced in his direction to see Dan looking suspiciously innocent. _I’ll figure that out later. Not the best time._  
“Shit,” Jordan groaned. “I am so burned.”  
“No, you’re not,” (Name) said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
“No, you’re not,” Abby agreed. Lowering her voice, she added, “Just let me handle this.”  
Dan looked a little nonplussed, like he couldn’t understand how they could possibly get out of this, but he said nothing. (Name) simply nodded and gestured towards Joe. “Be my guest.”  
When Joe turned around, Abby was rubbing at her eyes with vigor, getting dust and who knows what all over her face.  
“Uh… is she okay?” Dan whispered to Jordan, who shrugged in return.  
They were shepherded out into the hall before they got their answer. Joe, who was relocking the padlock, began to speak, letting them know what would happen next. However, he’d only gotten as far as, “Okay, so this is what’s going to happen,” before Abby burst into tears.  
(Name) made a move towards her which ended up as an aborted jerk as Jordan beat her to it, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and quite literally giving her a shoulder to cry on, which she took wholeheartedly.  
“We’re so sorry, Joe,” she sobbed pathetically, wiping at her tearstained face. “We didn’t mean to break any rules, we were just so curious… I’m so sorry!”  
(Name) glanced around, seeing Dan look confused and Jordan look mildly amused, rolling his eyes at her dramatic performance. It seemed that at this point, the only person buying the act was Joe, who stood there with a look equal parts dumbfounded and dismayed. Not sure of what to do to really sell the performance, Dan tried to add to the believability, instead of just staring with his arms crossed like (Name) was. He reached over and began patting Abby’s arm consolingly. “It’ll be alright,” he said softly.  
“Oh for the love of–just don’t do it again, alright?” Joe finally relented, shining his flashlight in each of their faces, perhaps to look for signs of dishonesty or insincerity. “Get back to your rooms, _now_.”  
And off he marched, muttering to himself.  
“That was amazing,” Jordan exclaimed as soon as he was out of sight. He pulled Abby into a hug. “You genius, you!”  
“Thanks,” Abby grinned, wiping the tears and dust from her face. “That was too close,” she said, starting for the stairs.  
“Not too close. We got caught,” Dan remarked, sounding relieved that they wouldn’t be getting in trouble after all.  
They reached Abby’s door surprisingly quickly. “Well, I’m gonna need around three showers to get all this dust off,” Abby observed, sounding rather casual and not the least bit fazed about anything that had just transpired. _Although, a shower did sound rather nice, now that Abby mentioned it…_  
(Name) must have spaced out, because Jordan was suddenly speaking and ever-so-subtly jerking him away from Dan and Abby. “...pray to every god there is in thanks that I didn’t get my ass kicked out.”  
“Don’t see this night getting much worse,” (Name) said, “but I’m not going to stick around to find out. Night guys,” and with a half wave, (Name) followed after Jordan and left the pair to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally out!  
> I had a friend look through it, so it should actually be decent. Ish. Hopefully.  
> Also: I was going to make the chapter title a quote, the quote from Alighieri's Divine Comedy in latin. Or was it Italian? Anyways, I don't think it fit the tone of the story. And I felt... douchey? I guess douchey, for even thinking about it. Sure it's nice, but it does NOT work here. Anyways. Happy New Year's Eve.


	12. Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast isn't only the most important meal of the day, but apparently the most irritating as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I think I'm subtle.

After the misadventure into the depths of the asylum and a series of nightmares that had (Name) waking up in a cold sweat and unable to remember what they even were in the first place, (Name) was dead tired and perhaps a little on edge. This was something that was apparently incredibly obvious when Dan joined him at their table.  
“Hey,” he greeted Dan with a smile. Tired or not, at least he wasn't alone.  
“Hi, (Name). You look kind of pale. And exhausted.”  
(Name) shrugged, pushing his spoon around in a bowl of already soggy cereal. “'M fine,” he eventually responded. “Just a headache.”  
Dan furrowed his brow, obviously not believing him, but before he was able to formulate any sort of response Jordan arrived, throwing himself onto the chair next to (Name). “Hey.”  
(Name) glanced at him. He probably looked worse than he did, with dark circles under his eyes. “You look awful.”  
“Yeah, are you alright?”  
“ _I’m fine_ ,” Jordan snapped.  
Dan looked slightly affronted, but said nothing, choosing instead to glance around the cafeteria again.  
“She’ll get here what she gets here,” Jordan said irritably. “Can’t bear to be away from her for five minutes?”  
“What the hell, Jordan?” (Name) said. Although a crabby Jordan wasn’t anything particularly new (despite the first couple mornings of him being perfectly happy, he was not a morning person as it turned out), he rarely became so combative.  
“Are you sure that you’re alright?” Dan tried again. He was easily braver than (Name), as he was risking his head being bitten off in a spectacular fashion.  
“I’m fine. What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” Jordan returned to utterly mutilating his food, a sizable piece of english muffin breaking from the herd and falling into the bowl of already soggy cereal. Jordan fished it out, plopping it on a napkin and unknowingly drawing attention to some very chewed up fingernails. _Looks a little painful there_.  
“Well, nobody would expect it.” Not even a groan. (Name) frowned. The other two boys were focusing determinedly on their breakfasts and refused to speak to each other. Or perhaps they didn’t want to be the first to break the silence. Either way it was irritating, and (Name) thanked the Lord when Abby plopped down into her seat. Although, upon closer inspection it was clear that something was eating at her as well. Her face was ashen, there were bags under her eyes, and the usual light and cheer in her eyes was gone.  
“Hey,” she said, tucking into her food at once.  
“Hey,” Jordan said. “Are you sick or something? You look terrible.”  
Abby’s eyes narrowed, and (Name) ever-so-discreetly elbowed him. “What are you talking about?”  
“I was just saying how you look radiant. New makeup?”  
“Oh jeez.”  
“Yeah, thanks Jordan. Sarcasm is exactly what I need right now,” Abby said.  
“What, you can dish it but can’t take it?”  
“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the gurney.” Dan had obviously meant it as a joke, but it was clearly the wrong thing to say. Abby’s glare trained itself on him and he seemed to shrink under her gaze.  
“Well,” she said, practically throwing her spoon down into her oatmeal, splattering it over her tray. “I did actually have something important to talk to you guys about, but I guess it’ll have to wait.” And with that, she grabbed her tray and stalked off.  
“Congrats,” Jordan said lightly, taking a sip of his orange juice. “That may have just been the briefest relationship in the history of the universe.”  
(Name) shook his head. “I believe I hold that torch. Plus they technically weren’t even together yet. One date doesn’t constitute a relationship.”  
“What the hell did I do to piss you guys off?” Dan asked incredulously, but by then he was only speaking to Jordan’s back as he left the cafeteria, leaving (Name) and Dan alone at the table.  
(Name) shrugged in response when Dan looked to him for an answer. “Beats me… Did you say something wrong to Abby last night or something?” Dan shook his head and let out a soft groan of frustration.  
“We had a good time, we left it on good terms. I don’t get it.”  
“Well, whatever you did or didn’t do, that gurney joke sure didn’t do much to help… Oh Hell. Look Dan, I have to split. We’ll talk later?” (Name) said, checking the time and realizing that if he didn’t get a move on he would be late very soon.  
“Yeah…” Dan said gloomily from behind as (Name) hurried out of the cafeteria and on to class.  


__  


* * *

  


(Name) wasn’t sure what to make of the haunted look that had settled over Dan’s face when he saw him again at dinner. He wasn’t sure what to make of several things, actually. Abby was sopping wet and, he noticed as he walked closer, looked as though she’d been crying. Jordan didn’t look much better himself, appearing to be exhausted and rather irate, even more so than he had been this morning.  
“I miss anything?” he said as he slid into the only remaining open seat.  
“Actually, you’re just in time--”  
“That’s a first,” Jordan said quietly. It seemed that at least he was in a good enough mood for a joke or two (at (Name)’s expense, at least). Good, but (Name) stuck his tongue out at him nonetheless.  
“Oh, bite me.”  
“Guys,” Dan said, bringing their attention back to what he was saying. “I got a note.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and dropped it on the table. “‘How do you kill a hydra?’”  
“What is that supposed to mean?” (Name) asked.  
Jordan flipped the card over and his expression morphed into a mixture of equal parts disgust and distaste. He slid the card away from him, and Abby grabbed it, but not before (Name) got a look at it. _You strike at its heart_. “What even is this? Where did it come from?”  
“It was in my room when I came back from class. Someone managed to get into my room when I was gone, and I’m sure that I locked the door. Did none of you get anything like this?” Dan’s face fell even further as Jordan and Abby both shook their heads.  
“I’m sorry, this is all very creepy and all, but what’s the point of this note?” (Name) piped up. “I don’t get it. Why a hydra?”  
“That day we were all nearly late to class? You were...busy. We were called a hydra by the professor.”  
(Name) frowned. “So what, do you think that someone from that class could have got this into your room?”  
Dan shrugged taking the card as Abby handed it back to him. “I don’t know. It could have been Joe, he would have the keys to all of the rooms. But… I would have thought he would have left it for you guys too.”  
“Because then it would have been a bad joke?”  
Dan nodded. “I really don’t like the idea that I’m being singled out.”  
“Ignore it,” Jordan suggested. “Joe’s just trying to get a rise out of you, that’s all. That’s what bullies do. Trust me, I know.”  
“Well, I mean you always could punch him in the face,” (Name) said. At the raised eyebrows and a glare from Abby, he felt the need to try and justify his thought, make it clear that it wasn’t meant to be a jape. At least, not completely. “Hey, it works a lot of the time. Just don’t get hit back. Or don’t go down. It makes it way harder to make your point.” The ensuing silence made it clear that none of them thought much of this and he shrugged. “Just an idea.”  
“Anyways…” Abby said, steering them away from that particular subject. “I have something to show you guys, too. I was going to tell you guys at breakfast, but I just… I got so mad.” She paused, seemingly unsure of what to say next. Taking a deep to collect herself, her entire demeanor seemed to change, and she suddenly looked to be a thousand years older as she began to speak again.  
“My aunt. She was a patient here.”  
_Well, didn’t expect that_.  
Apparently, none of them had, because after a moment of silence, Dan hazarded a question. “How you do you know?”  
Abby said nothing, just took a card out of her jacket pocket with trembling hands and placed it on the table for them all to read.  


_Valdez, Lucy Abigail_  
_Born: 7.15.1960_  
_DOA: 2.12.1968_  
_Recovered: N_

Dan was the first to break the shocked silence. “Well, it isn’t like Valdez isn’t a common name, right? Maybe it’s just a coincidence…” he trailed off when Abby shook her head.  
“No, that’s my aunt. I was named after her.”  
Jordan, however, didn’t seem convinced in the slightest. “C’mon, Abby. That couldn’t possibly have been your aunt. No way.”  
“My grandparents were really strict on my pops when he was growing up, and his sister Lucy never got along with them. We’re talking screaming, breaking things, throwing fits, the whole nine yards.  
“One day there was a really huge fight and Lucy ran out. When my pops woke up later that night, she was just gone and he was forbidden to talk about her. They acted like she didn’t exist.”  
Everyone seemed to be having a hard time digesting this, even (Name). The story just seemed too incredible. “Are you sure this just isn’t a coincidence?”  
Jordan shook his head. “No, that isn’t coincidence, that’s just flat out weird.”  
Abby’s grin faded as Jordan’s own expression didn’t change. “You’re joking. What, you don’t believe me?”  
Jordan crossed his arms and leaned back. “What do you expect? What would you say if I turned up saying that my aunt used to be a mental patient here? I think that either there’s something you’re not telling us or you’re just not telling us the truth.”  
Abby looked as though she’d been slapped. Her face screwed up in an attempt to keep tears at bay as she tried (and failed) to control her breathing.  
“Ah, shit Jordan…” (Name) said, clearly wanting to comfort Abby but unsure of what to do. He settled for patting her hand. She gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement and pulled her hand away, taking a deep breath.  
“Fine. I wasn’t going to say anything but… when I was little, I would go through my parents’ drawers, looking for clothes when I played dress up. One time I found a box. It was full of letters from my grandpapa. Just… apologizing, over and over. Kept saying that he was sorry for sending his Lucy away to _that place_.”  
“And that place was Brookline, I assume?” Jordan said, clearly not believing one syllable of her story. And (Name) couldn’t exactly blame him.  
“It _had_ to be,” Abby said, hurrying on and not giving Jordan a chance to interrupt. “There was other stuff, about her being violent, and how she was just ‘too dangerous...’ And he mentioned a trip to New Hampshire.”  
“That’s a logical assumption, to put that together,” Dan said weakly. (Name) stared. He wanted to help, that much was clear, but in all honesty, he was probably doing more harm than good right now despite the nod that Abby gave him.  
“Look, it all adds up. I know how it sounds, trust me. I thought long and hard about this, because I thought I was reading these signs wrong too. But I remember those letters, I never forgot about Aunt Lucy or New Hampshire. And when I got my letter for this program, I thought it was a sign--”  
“A sign of how utterly ridiculous this story is,” Jordan cut in. “What, did you think that you could just work on your art skills _and_ find your ‘long lost’ aunt? Two birds?”  
Abby was clearly appalled, and rather affronted. “Jordan--”  
But Jordan ignored both her and the warning look that he was receiving from Dan and continued on. “Do you think this is funny? That you’d make up this whole thing and have a good laugh at my expense? Ha ha, very funny. It’s not working.”  
“Jordan, why would I make something like this up?”  
“Boredom? Attention? Fun? Take your pick.”  
Her face reddened and she glared intensely at Jordan, as though she was trying to scorch a hole through him with that glare. “God, you are _such_ an asshole sometimes!”  
Dan glanced at (Name) who shrugged; he wasn’t terribly sure how to diffuse the situation either, not without it ending in even more tears, at least. “Okay guys, let’s just calm down for a minute. Think things out. Jordan, do you think that I wrote this note to myself?”  
Jordan shrugged and let out a sigh. He sounded tired, defeated even. “I don’t know, man. I just feel like you’re ganging up on me, trying to make me look stupid.” he took a sip of his coffee as he finished speaking, seemingly wanting something to do.  
Dan turned to Abby now. “Abby, do you think that there’s _any_ chance at all that this may be a different Lucy Valdez?”  
To the surprise of no one (but the frustration of all), Abby shook her head vigorously. “I _know_ it’s her, and I bet there’s more in the old wing about just what they did to her.”  
Jordan let out a derisive snort, and Abby very suddenly lashed out, smashing her fist on the table and causing all three boys to visibly jump in their seats. “Damn it Abby, warn a guy,” (Name) muttered, although it seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.  
“What will it take for you to trust me?” she said finally, staring straight at Jordan.  
He shrugged.  
Dan spoke up, trying again to stop the fighting, to get everyone to just settle down a bit. “I trust you, Abby.”  
(Name) fought back a groan. _Ahh, jeez Dan, really? You freaking sap. Not the time._  
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Hey, at least Peeta Mellark over here believes you. Shocking.” he downed his coffee, and without another word, took his pie and left the three at their table.  
“I can’t believe him,” Abby said, watching Jordan’s back disappear into the small crowd.  
“Will you be alright?” Dan asked gently.  
“Would you be?”  
Dan shook his head and she sighed. “There’s your answer.”  
And then, out of the blue, Abby seemed to notice (Name)’s existence again. Whoopie, at last.  
“What about you, (Name)? Do you not believe me either?”  
(Name) grimaced, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone and he thought he’d said his piece (as little as possible, if anything at all). “Look, Abby, I don’t think you’re lying,” he said after a moment of consideration. “I just… I’m not sure what to think. It seems just a little too incredible, you know?” he shrugged, trying to ignore the look she was giving him like she was just seeing him for the first time and wasn’t too happy with what she saw. “I’m sorry,” he finished weakly. He didn’t wait from a response from either; he’d grabbed his bag and was already halfway across the hall when he thought he heard Dan’s voice. He ignored it and didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've not done anything on this. I haven't lost interest, I've just been reaaaaaaally busy. I went back to college in January and right now I'm getting absolutely slammed with work. Though I have been writing stuff for The Outsiders and for It in my spare time as well. What can I say, reread the book and couldn't help myself. First week of May I'll be free though.


End file.
